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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25510033">Do Not Fear to Put Thy Feet Naked in the River Sweet</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatthedubbs/pseuds/whatthedubbs'>whatthedubbs</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Percy Jackson and the Olympians &amp; Related Fandoms - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alpha Annabeth Chase (Percy Jackson), Alpha Jason Grace, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Bondage, Bottom Jason Grace, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Everyone is in their mid-late twenties, Godly Shenanigans, Kidnapped By The Sex Gods, M/M, Marathon Sex, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multi, Multiple Orgasms, Not an Asshole!Hera, Omega Jason Grace, Omega Percy Jackson, Outdoor Sex, Self-Lubrication, Sex Pollen - kinda, Sex Toys, Sexual Hallucination</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 05:35:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>34,193</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25510033</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatthedubbs/pseuds/whatthedubbs</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>They start out on this quest together.  At this point in their lives it’s been years since they were mentioned in a specific prophecy, but they’ve been hanging around camp half-blood over summers and occasionally on weekends because it’s nice to have time where they don’t have to worry about pretending to be normal humans.  So when Rachel gets a prophecy that names them specifically they’re a little surprised but not unprepared.</p><p>--<br/>Jason, now a lonely alpha in his late 20's, gets himself kidnapped by the Erotes, the Greek gods of love and sex.  </p><p>The week he spends confined to the Palace of the Erotes is... transformative.</p><p>Percy and Annabeth just want to finish this stupid, kinky quest and get their friend back.\</p><p>Chiron just hopes nobody gets arrested.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Annabeth Chase/Jason Grace/Percy Jackson, Implied Jason Grace/Everyone, Jason Grace/Erotes (Greek Mythology), Jason Grace/Original Male Character(s), Past Jason Grace/Piper McLean - Relationship</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>110</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/enbyofdionysus/gifts">enbyofdionysus</a>.</li>


        <li>
            Inspired by

            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24118477">i can't sleep (until i feel your touch)</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/enbyofdionysus/pseuds/enbyofdionysus">enbyofdionysus</a>.
        </li>

    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>So this arose from an idea that came to me while reading a great Omega Percy/Alpha Annabeth fic (linked above), and then grew multiple limbs and several heads, some of which can breathe fire, and now it's about to enter your eyeballs through your screen.  I've already laid out the basic plot of this (and yes, there will be plot, even if it's a thinly-veiled excuse for various deities to fuck Jason silly and make him feel good.  </p><p>I'll state at the beginning that Jason and other demigods depicted here are in their mid-late 20's.  Nobody is a teenager.  Also, that I'm gay and a dude, so any depictions of heterosexual sex will probably not be super accurate, since my frame of reference is fanfiction.  Pretty much everyone in this can be assumed to be bi/pansexual, but most of what you're going to get is dicks.</p><p>Thanks to enbyofdionysus for prodding me into writing this.  Go check them out.  They're pretty cool.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They start out on this quest together.  At this point in their lives it’s been years since they were mentioned in a specific prophecy, but they’ve been hanging around camp half-blood over summers and occasionally on weekends because it’s nice to have time where they don’t have to worry about pretending to be normal humans.  So when Rachel gets a prophecy that names them specifically they’re a little surprised but not unprepared.</p><p>Fortunately, the palace of the Erotes, isn’t super-hard to get to; it’s actually the Hemingway House in Key West. Not because Hemingway was the son of one of them, but because it’s near stuff they want to go to and the climate is good for outdoor sex. They actually travel by Pegasus despite Percy making loud noises about missing out on prime road trip time; something Jason is secretly grateful for, since hanging out with Annabeth and Percy for extended periods of time is hard when all he wants is to be in Percy’s place.  </p><p>He wishes that Annabeth could tug on his hair and show his face into her skin to shut him up without his stupid alpha hormones kicking into overdrive and making him want to fight and growl.  Hates the way the coarse hair on the inside of his thighs chafes against his perineum while he’s trying to hide how hard he gets when Percy moans theatrically into her armpit (wishes he could be slick instead, the feeling of dryness between his cheeks, unwelcome even if it’s all he’s ever known).  Hates the way the base of his dick where his knot forms is always semi-rigid, pushing his junk out and away from his hips so it’s obvious to everyone who cares to look what he is.</p><p>Jason pushes those thoughts aside and quietly dreads their upcoming conversation with the gods, because the Erotes have a <em>reputation</em>, and the fact that they’re asking for two alphas and an omega makes him almost feel sick when he contemplates <em>why</em>.</p><p>(He remembers Nico, and Eros battering and taunting at his secrets until he was forced to give them up in front of someone he didn’t trust yet.  Remembers being terrified that he would be next; Eros’ mortifying, <em>knowing</em>, smirk before he vanished in a cloud of pink-and-red heart-shaped sequins).</p><p>The exterior of the house is unassuming.  There’s a chest-high brick wall surrounding the grounds, unadorned at first glance, but as they approach Jason can see cravings of naked bodies and pleasure-twisted faces emerging from the Mist; a declaration of the building’s real ownership hidden from mortal eyes.  The chattering of tourists fades away, the quality of light changes; a sweet-smelling ocean breeze ruffles his hair as they step through the gate.  </p><p>The smell reminds him of something familiar.  He takes a deep breath, trying to identify it.  Salt.  Sand.  Banana, cherry, roses, jasmine…. They wind around him and Percy and Annabeth as the other two lead the way up the short stone path to the front of the house.  The sound of water running nearby and the tinkling of harp strings nearly covers the distant sound of the ocean.  Annabeth and Percy are drawing further ahead of him now and Jason swears he’s going to catch up in just a second, but there’s still something tugging at his mind, a scent that’s floating in the air…</p><p>Something else behind the rest, something musky and <em>alluring</em> that he can’t quite pick out of the other scents of the garden.  He closes his eyes and breathes again deeply, trying to jog his memory…</p><p>Nothing.</p><p>Jason sighs and ducks his head as he hurries to catch up with the other two, reaching down to try and adjust his dick into a less obvious position; its reaction to whatever he’s smelling sudden and unwanted.  </p><p>A nymph shows them in, takes them to an almost-tasteful sitting room that looks out over the back garden and the pool that Jason heard earlier.  If not for the less-than-subtle moldings of roses and eggplants adorning the trim around the doors and windows and the very sexually explicit fountain in the middle of the pool (featuring two figures that look disturbingly like Percy and Annabeth when he looks closer), it might even look normal.  </p><p>Another nymph appears a moment later with a tray of goblets and a plate of cheeses and pears and other probably-sexually-symbolic fruits.  Jason snatches one up to distract himself from their surroundings (and especially from the way a slow trickle of water seems to be issuing from between Statue-Percy’s cheeks as Statue-Annabeth spreads his legs).  </p><p>Jason tries not to wonder if that’s what his best friends really look like together in bed, but isn’t particularly successful.  Suddenly his throat feels very dry.  Suddenly the wine in his goblet seems very appealing, even though it feels like the wrong time of day for such a strong-smelling and dark red.</p><p>“The Erotes will be with you shortly,”  The nymph informs them when his tray has been unloaded onto the coffee table, bowing low enough that Jason can see the top of the young man’s <em>much-thicker-than-usual</em> dick as the loose fabric slung around his hips rides lower.  “Until then, please refresh yourselves as you wish.”</p><p>“Thanks, dude,” Percy calls after the nymph as he leaves, already reaching for a <em>seriously</em> suggestive-looking peach.  “Everything looks great!”</p><p>Jason reminds himself that Percy doesn’t have any particularly bad experiences with any of their hosts, and quickly diverts his attention to his cup when his best friend catches his eye and smirks at him over the curve of the peach in his hand.  </p><p>(Tries not to think about how the Erotes are the gods to which omegas pray for smooth heats and attentive alphas; or about the time he caught Annabeth pouring a small bottle of what was <em>definitely</em> Percy’s slick into the sacrificial bowl on the shrine of Anteros in Camp Half-Blood’s temple dedicated to Aphrodite and her retinue).</p><p>(As the first sip of wine splashes across his tongue he tries even harder to forget how when, after the end of the second titan war; his father had asked all of them if there was a favor they wished from the gods, and he had been too ashamed to ask for the one thing he’s wanted since he was eleven and first popped a knot after a particularly good dream involving himself and the alpha teenager a few bunks over.  Too intimidated by the idea of other people <em>knowing</em> to ask.  <em>Was this a slow arrow from Eros</em>, he remembers wondering; had the god decided to punish him for not offering his own truth up to Nico when he’d laid his younger friend’s secrets bare)?</p><p>The wine is heavy and rich in his mouth, smooth over the back of his tongue and down his throat.  Heat blooms in his stomach, so close to where he wishes it would, but never quite there.  It’s still nice, a moment where his body can almost fool his mind.  At the other end of the sofa Percy’s laughing and pressing a slice of his peach to Annabeth’s lips, thin trails of nectar from its perfectly-yellow-ripe flesh running down his fingers, painting Percy’s lips and chin, smearing on Annabeth’s cheek as she tries to avoid his hand, a smile on her own lips at her mate’s antics.</p><p>Another sip then, to keep him from staring like a heartsick teenager.  The musk he’d smelled in the air earlier hanging thicker in the room as another splash of heat flares in his stomach.  The wine is <em>strong</em>, and Jason hasn’t had anything to eat for hours.  He can already feel his posture loosening, skin flushing as the alcohol races through his system.  He should probably eat something, he thinks, but there’s only about a mouthful left in his goblet anyway (where did the rest of it go?), so he tips it back and takes a minutes too enjoy the spreading warmth that follows before reaching to grab something from the bowl of fruit on the coffee table.</p><p>(He doesn’t wonder why their hosts haven’t appeared yet.  If he’s perfectly honest with himself he really doesn’t want to see them anyway).</p><p>On the couch beside him Percy’s ceased his fruity assault on Annabeth and instead has his head leaned against her shoulder sleepily as she runs slim fingers through his hair and occasionally presses grapes against his lips.  Jason thinks they must not have gotten much sleep last night, because Annabeth’s eyelids are also drooping.</p><p>Not that Jason can blame them.  The sound of the ocean combined with the warm lighting of the palace and the sweet scent of the garden is incredibly relaxing.  The strange underlying scent heady and enveloping when he breathes deeply, stirring arousal low in his belly that for once doesn’t feel too much and not enough at the same time.  </p><p>(It makes sense, he thinks, that arousal in the palace of the literal gods of sex should feel good).</p><p>Something soft and sweet-smelling bumps gently against his lips, pressing slowly between them, spreading him open and filling him up.  When he opens his eyes (he doesn’t remember closing them?) he realizes that while his mind was occupied elsewhere, his body remembered that he was hungry; a peeled banana of a (probably extinct) variety he doesn’t recognize filling the curve of his palm.</p><p>
  <em>Might as well, right?</em>
</p><p>He presses onward, the girth of the fruit spreading his lips further apart and pinning his tongue down in a way that has heat shooting up and down his spine.  He’s sure he must make some sort of embarrassing noise, but when he glances over at Annabeth and Percy they both seem to be dozing soundly.  </p><p>(Jason hasn’t done this in years, not since he was fourteen and the feeling of something long and thick on his tongue made him pop a knot in his pants in the middle of the dining pavilion).</p><p>His eyes slip closed again and he focuses inwards on the sensation of ripe fruit rubbing teasingly over his tongue.  It makes something in his mind let go, sets him drifting on a sea of diffuse and comforting <em>want</em>.  The smell of musk hanging in the room presses down on him and Jason <em>moans;</em> skin flaring with blush, suddenly sensitive to the slightest caress of the breeze from outside on the skin under his jaw and across the bridge of his nose.</p><p>He barely registers the sound of the door opening and almost-silent bare feet padding across the floor; loses the memory of both in the sighing of the sea and the heaviness of his limbs. He idly wishes he’d worn a shirt without sleeves; the gentle wind off the ocean feels amazing wherever it touches his skin, while the parts of him covered by his t-shirt and jeans are stifled and uncomfortable.</p><p>Slender fingers slip through the strands of Jason’s hair and massage his scalp and Jason doesn’t remember finishing the banana but he must have done because when he groans out load at the feeling there’s nothing in his mouth to muffle the sound.  He doesn’t know where the fingers came from, but his eyelids are too heavy right now to bother prying open to find out so he just leans into them and sighs as another hand gently pulls his glasses off and rubs gently on the skin behind his ears.</p><p>Jason’s fully hard in his jeans now, cock pressing uncomfortably against the inside of his boxer-briefs under his fly.  He shifts his thighs further apart to try and give himself more room, sinking lower against the back of the sofa until his ass is practically hanging off the front of the cushions.  The fingers keep combing through his hair and he vaguely registers a pleased voice humming appreciatively in his ear.</p><p><em>Relax, Son of Zeus,</em> a voice murmurs in his thoughts, neither male or female but something in between the two.  </p><p>Like magic, all the remaining tension in his limbs vanishes.  Jason’s mouth drops open and a throaty moan issues from his lips as his dick twitches <em>hard</em> and shoots a large blot of pre-cum into the tight fabric of his underwear.  Even his hole relaxes, flexing open slightly and drawing an even more desperate sound from his throat…</p><p>
  <em>Good boy.</em>
</p><p>The fingers leave his hair and travel gently down the sides of his face, caressing cheeks that are rough with two mornings worth of stubble.  They trail down the column of his neck and over the thin fabric of his shirt; faint lines of heat and pressure tracing lines down over his pectorals and flat stomach until they curl delicate knuckles against his skin at the hem of his shirt.  Slowly, they pull the garment upwards, the backs of curled fingers grazing tantalizingly and achingly slow over sensitive skin and pebbling nipples, the breeze from outside only stoking the fire beneath his skin left by the touch.  </p><p>More hands appear on him, one each caressing his wrists and palms and raising his heavy, tired arms over his head so the first pair of hands can relieve him of his shirt.  Jason hums happily to himself, enjoying the way the gently-moving air soothes his skin from its confinement.  He sighs contentedly when a hand returns to his head, familiar fingers once again resuming their play through the locks of his hair.  More fingers return, this time tracing familiar wine around the bow of his lips before pressing between them, painting sweet-sharp alcohol along the surface of his tongue with slow strokes. </p><p>New hands (or possibly the same ones again, Jason isn’t paying that much attention to them because they aren’t as nice as the ones in his hair and his mouth) caress the curves of his hipbones, skilled fingers popping the buttons of his fly open one at a time. </p><p>
  <em>Open.</em>
</p><p>He does, letting the fingers in his mouth withdraw, leaving him achingly empty for the few seconds it takes for them to return with a fresh coating of heady wine.  They slip back into his waiting mouth, settling themselves back on the pillow of his tongue as if they had never left.</p><p>
  <em>Suck.</em>
</p><p>He sucks, a greedy noise muffled around slim digits as the other hands urge his hips up off the sofa; strong, thick fingers dragging teasingly over the globes of his ass as they peel restricting denim away from his skin.</p><p>Just when the bunched fabric of his jeans begins to get caught on his spread thighs there’s a <em>snick</em>, and the restriction of his motion falls away.  Fabric sloughs off his legs, cool air ruffling the hair on his thighs and calves.  Jason sighs happily around the fingers in his mouth, legs splaying wider immediately, the growing wet spot in his briefs dragging torturously over the sensitive skin of his dick.</p><p>Too soon, the fingers in his mouth loose the taste of wine, and the voice is speaking in his head once more.</p><p>
  <em>Open.</em>
</p><p>He lets the fingers go.  The hand running through his hair scratches soothingly at his scalp when he whimpers for more.  The strong hands return, four of them spreading and lifting his legs until the insides of his knees fit over broad shoulders.  His ass slides even further down the seat, underwear riding up slightly and pulling even tighter over his dick as those same hands begin exploring the musculature of his thighs.</p><p>Jason hears a quiet <em>pop</em>, and then smell of musk is suddenly overpowering, cutting through his fog of arousal and sending his libido into overdrive.  He gasps as his dick somehow surges even harder in his boxer-briefs, positively <em>drooling</em> a river of pre through the fabric, his knot fully swollen and sensitive from the constant tickle of coarse pubic hair.</p><p>Something new presses against his lips this time; not fingers or fruit, but what feels like the lip of a small bottle.  Musk positively <em>roils</em> from it, making his mouth water and the heat in his stomach flare even higher.  He breathes deep and lets loose a high and needy moan.</p><p><em>Drink</em>.</p><p>He does.  The fluid, when it’s tipped between his lips, coats the inside of his mouth like oil, sliding between his teeth and over his tongue and across his palate until he swallows it down; heat and desire and <em>need</em> flowing deeper into his core; bypassing all the walls he’s put up around his psyche and lighting him up from the inside, spreading out like a blast wave underneath his skin.  Jason nearly <em>screams</em> as he feels tendrils of burning heat burst through him, spreading and <em>finally</em> filling in those places inside him that have always been cold and <em>wrong;</em> pouring into them and breaking him open and <em>holding</em>.</p><p>Pressure builds behind his eyes and deep beneath his pubic bone and it’s like every ounce of tension he’s ever carried is being washed away in a flood of pure and unforgiving <em>feeling</em>.  He sobs into the hands now cradling his face, body limp in the grasp of unseen care-givers as his dick <em>pulses</em> and <em>twitches</em> and strains against wet and restricting fabric.</p><p><em>Cum</em>.Orgasm slams over him like lightning, like the time he was twenty and flew to the top of the Chrysler Building in a thunderstorm to try catching incoming bolts with his bare hands; except somehow <em>more</em>.  His eyes are squeezed tightly shut so he doesn’t see it, but he can <em>feel</em> the drops of his release splattering up his chest despite the barrier of his underwear.  His body is so loose that he can barely twitch his fingers and toes as sensation <em>rips</em> through him.  Jason vaguely registers the fact that he’s crying but forgets a moment later as the last barrier between his skin and the sweet-wet-ocean-evening-wind that heals and soothes is literally torn away and fades out of existence beyond the narrow focus of his sensation-based reality.  </p><p>As reality claws its way back from the edges of his consciousness he registers a slim-fingered hand sliding down his left arm, curling gently around his wrist and lifting it up.  </p><p><em>Brave son of Zeus,</em> the strange head-voice croons inside his thoughts, <em>This is the first of many</em>.</p><p>Fingers brush over the inside of his wrist and a tiny spark jolts through him before lips brush the skin of his palm. A slim ribbon of cool sea air brushes teasingly across his perineum.</p><p>He thinks he feels the lips against his skin curve up into a smile.</p><p><em>Sleep</em>.</p><p>He sleeps.</p>
<hr/><p>Hermaphroditus watches the demi-god sigh and slip into unconsciousness.  He is beautiful, he thinks.  Strong and well-defined and handsome and needy.  Even in sleep he can see the way Jason's body arches towards his brother’s greedy mouths as Pothos and Eros clean his spend from him with long strokes of their tongues and fingers.</p><p>Hermaphroditus ruffles a hand through golden locks one more time, setting aside the small crystal vial with its heady scent.  </p><p>“Pothos, would you be so kind as to show our guest to his bed?”  He asks, wiping the residual slick from their fingers on the strip of skin between Jason’s nose and mouth where he will smell it immediately once he wakes.  “Eros and I will speak with his companions.”</p><p>Pothos looks up from the now-spit-shined ridges of Jasons abdominals, the young man’s spend creating a slick sheen over the god’s lips.  He winks.</p><p>“Sure thing, dear sibling mine,” he smirks, scooping the sleeping demi-god into his arms.  “Nothing but my best work for the son of Zeus.  I’ll have him ready for you in the morning.”</p><p>Hermaphroditus waves him away, waiting until his brother disappears through the doors into the garden before turning to their other two sleeping guests.</p><p>
  <em>Wake.</em>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p>Percy doesn’t remember falling asleep, but here he is, hanging out in the Erotes palace in Key West with his face shoved into Annabeth’s armpit while the literal god of sex and another deity he doesn’t recognize watch them with amused looks on their faces.</p><p>And no Jason.</p><p><em>Balls</em>.</p><p>“Sorry for the delay,”  the unfamiliar god (goddess?  It’s kinda hard to tell) begins.  </p><p>Annabeth stiffens beside him.</p><p>“Lord Hermaphroditus?”</p><p>The god smiles.  It’s not an unkind smile; but Percy has a sinking feeling that he’s <em>really</em> not going to like whatever task the god of omegas and hermaphrodites has for them.  “I am he.  My thanks, cousin, for the shrine to me you added to my mother’s temple.  It has made caring for those in need of me a great deal easier.”</p><p>Annabeeth bows her head respectfully, and elbows him to get him to follow suit.  “It was my pleasure to build it, but I feel the real credit should go to Jason, my lord.  He was the one who brought the need for your shrine to my attention in the first place.”</p><p>That got them a quiet laugh from Hermaphroditus and a less-quiet snigger from Eros who’s now lounging at the other end of the couch in the spot that Jason had previously occupied.  </p><p>“Don’t you worry about <em>that</em>, cousins,” Eros grins.  “I’m sure Jason’s going to have a <em>wonderful</em> time in our capable hands while you’re busy with this quest.  A vacation of sorts!”  The grin transforms into a leer that makes the hair on the back of Percy’s neck stand on end. “We’ll take such good care of him, why he’ll come back a <em>changed man!”</em></p><p>Percy does not like the way Eros emphasizes the end of that sentence.  A side-glance at Annabeth confirms that she’s thinking the same thing.  Before either of them can ask what Eros means by <em>changed</em> though, Hermaphroditus speaks once more.</p><p>“Your task,” he began speaking slightly louder to cover Eros’ continued laughter,  “Is simple.  You are to make offerings at five different shrines to our brother Anteros, demonstrating your bond in his name.”</p><p>Eros cackles in the background. “He means fuck each other on the altar.  Anteros always gets a kick out of that.”</p><p>“Once you have completed this task, return here, and your companion will be returned to you unharmed.”  Hermaphroditus ignores their brother’s words and continues speaking in the same calm, level voice.  “Until you return to lay claim on him he will be subject to his every earthly desire that myself and my brothers can provide.”</p><p>That sounds good in <em>theory</em>, but Percy’s dealt with gods often enough to know there’s going to be something else to this arrangement.  There always is.</p><p><br/>
“And the catch?”  Annabeth inquired before he could open his mouth and ask he same question.</p><p>Hermaphroditus <em>beams</em> at her.  “Just as sharp as your mother, cousin.  The catch, indeed.  It is, like your task, very simple.”  Eros has stopped laughing and was now grinning in a particularly <em>predatory</em> fashion.  “Each time your friend reaches climax by our hands, the effects of his stay here will linger an additional year.”</p><p>Percy hisses through his teeth.  <em>Great</em>.  “What kind of effects are we talking about here?”  <em>Please don’t be like the whole minotaur thing; that was disturbing enough when dad did it…</em></p><p>Hermaphroditus tuts at him theatrically.  “That would be telling, wouldn’t it.  Now, <em>hold out your hands.”</em></p><p>They do so without thinking.  Percy was <em>really</em> tired of Aphrodite’s crowd using their charmed voices on him.  </p><p>“To give your task the proper feeling of urgency, and since there should not be any actual risk to you or your friends’ lives; I’ll give you something to track your progress by.”</p><p>Thin fingers tapped each of their left wrists, and a spark of <em>something</em> passed into Percy’s skin before his hand was released.  He yanks it back quickly, inspecting it for damage.  On the skin on the inside of his wrist just below where it met his hand, was a single dark spot.  </p><p>“A mark for each year, cousins,” Hermaphroditus explains.  “Eros will show you out.  Good luck, and fly quick!”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Pothos, god of longing, gets the first crack at the son of Zeus.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jason wakes to the sound of the sea somewhere behind him, a gentle breeze teasing the expanse of his naked skin.  Soft lips slide invitingly over his own, tongue running along the seam of Jason’s mouth until he parts his lips and invites them in; Jason goes to bring his hands up to cradle their head…</p>
<p><em>Clink</em>.</p>
<p>He can’t move his hands.  </p>
<p>
  <em>“Relax, cousin.”</em>
</p>
<p>He does.</p>
<p>The same musky scent from earlier, the one he remembers pressing down on his mind like cotton wool, lingers heavily in the air around them, keeping him loose.</p>
<p>
  <em>“Open your eyes, Jason.”</em>
</p>
<p>Sunlight.  Lush green grass and startling green-grey eyes barely inches away from his own, set into an impossibly handsome and perfect face.  Shapely full lips smile at him, a large hand cupping under Jason’s chin to tilt his head upwards for another slow brush of a kiss.</p>
<p>“Where…?”</p>
<p>A solitary finger presses to his lips, silencing him.  Jason kisses it absently, and then wonders what possessed him to do so.  The man laughs quietly at his confusion.</p>
<p>“Don’t worry about it.  The Palace of the Erotes has that effect on people.  Just relax and enjoy it.”</p>
<p>So he’s still at the Palace.  That’s… good?  His sleep-addled mind <em>thinks</em> that’s good.  He goes to rub the sleep out of his eyes, but his movements are met with solid resistance and another unexpected <em>clink</em>.  Right.  He can’t move his hands.  Jason blinks, brow furrowing as he finally gathers his thoughts enough to check in with his surroundings.</p>
<p>There’s soft, padded leather supporting his chest and hips before sloping downwards and away just before his crotch.  His cock lies heavy and exposed on the angled surface, half-hard and lazily drooling drops of pre.   A wide leather collar is wrapped around his throat, fixed by a short chain to the surface he’s lying on.   His arms and legs restrained by cuffs around his wrists and ankles; limbs splayed wide, body on display for whoever happens to look.  A shiver runs down his spine.  <br/> <br/>Jason’s seen furniture like this before, even if only in porn.  Contemplated, late at night when there’s no one there to witness his depravity, what it might be like to be made vulnerable this way.  Stuffed the jock he wears to the gym behind his teeth and lost himself in fantasies where his own pheromone-heavy scent and taste belong to another alpha, looking to keep him quiet while they strap him down and <em>take</em> him.</p>
<p>
  <em>This is a breeding stand.</em>
</p>
<p>The ocean breeze tickles his skin and rustles through the coarse hair that grows from his armpits and groin.  </p>
<p>The reality of his position makes his cock stir and harden further between his legs.  Another, larger spurt of pre drips from his tip, a point of sudden chill against his hot skin as the wind blows across it.</p>
<p>A shiver runs up his exposed spine and finally seems to shake loose some of the fluff that’s been gathering between his ears.</p>
<p>
  <em>How did I get here?</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>What was in that wine?</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Where’re Percy and Annabeth?</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Who is this guy?</em>
</p>
<p>The guy in question chuckles to himself, the rush of his breath tingling over Jason’s kiss-slick lips.  He licks them self-consciously; green-grey eyes following the motion of his tongue with such obvious interest that heat flares in Jason’s cheeks.</p>
<p>The man sits back on his haunches with a smirk, and Jason becomes aware of the fact that <em>neither</em> of them are wearing a single stitch of clothing.  And that he’s <em>big</em>.  Broad shoulders, huge arms, strong thighs.  </p>
<p>
  <em>Nice dick.</em>
</p>
<p>Jason jerks his gaze upwards, blushing furiously.  The man’s smirk widens.</p>
<p>“See something you like, Jason?”  </p>
<p>His voice is teasing, but not unkind.  Jason swallows.  Nods.</p>
<p>The man’s smile softens, one of his hands reaching out to ruffle through Jason’s hair almost fondly.  “Good boy.”</p>
<p>Heat shoots up Jason’s spine, a surprised noise escaping his lips at the man’s praise; blue eyes wide and staring.  </p>
<p>Another laugh.  “Oh, Hedylogos is going to <em>love</em> you.”  Lips press against Jason’s mouth again, gentle fingers tilting Jason’s chin to a better angle that takes his breath away.</p>
<p>“I am Pothos, brother of Eros, the god of longing,” the man (the god) whispers against Jason’s lips.  “Perhaps you’ve heard of me?”</p>
<p>Jason <em>has</em>, in fact, heard of him.  Eros’ kinkier younger brother; Piper had called him.  God of sexual fantasies and desires.  No wonder his every move so far has gone straight for Jason’s libido.  He nods.</p>
<p>Pothos grins, charming and boyish despite the mature cut of his face.  “Of course you do.  Such a kind and considerate heart you have.  So <em>eager</em> to give yourself up.”  Fingers continue to pet through his hair the hand under his chin slides up to cradle his cheek.  Pothos’ smile softens again when Jason leans into the touch unthinkingly.  </p>
<p>“My brothers have given your companions a task to complete so that we might have some time to express our… appreciation.”  Pothos wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.  “Nothing dangerous; just a slight chance of a public indecency charge or two.  Anteros has always had a bit of a <em>thing</em> for PDA…”</p>
<p>Jason does his best to suppress the mental image Percy moaning with Annabeth’s hand down the back of his jeans; but the sudden leer on Pothos’ face tells him he’s been caught.  His breath catches and his cock drips.</p>
<p>“Oh, little alpha!  Trying to hide those dirty thoughts from me?”  Pothos’ leans in impossibly close, the tips of their noses brushing against each other as the god’s hands tilt Jason’s face upwards, their new position shifting the balance of dominance firmly in Pothos’ favor.  </p>
<p>(Not, Jason thinks, that it hadn’t already been weighed against him from the beginning).</p>
<p>Jason’s eyelids flutter and a moan rises from deep in his throat as the god presses their mouths together once more, powerful tongue parting Jason’s lips easily, stroking along the length of Jason’s own; tasting him, spreading his own flavor (<em>salt and chocolate and spices</em>) out for Jason to taste in turn.  </p>
<p>It’s <em>wonderful</em> until he runs out of air and has to take a breath through his nose and his body recoils at the scent of <em>alpha</em>.  The heat in his body dims, his muscles tense against his will, trying to recoil.</p>
<p>
  <em>Why?</em>
</p>
<p>Pothos lets him go, wryness written in the slant of his shoulders and the corners of his mouth.  </p>
<p>“That big ego of your dad’s ’s always gettin’ in your way, isn’t it?”  Pothos sighs, retreating far enough to let Jason’t head clear itself.  “Don’t know why he’s so convinced every son of his has to be an alpha.”  He rolls his eyes sarcastically at Jason, as if sharing a private joke.  “What?  Does he think Poseidon and Hades are gonna put you on your knees and play Ganymede for ‘em?  That you’ll be face-down-ass-up and begging the second they flash their dicks?  Unbelievable.”</p>
<p>“Uhh…”. Jason’s not sure if he’s supposed to answer that.  He guesses the answer is ‘not’ from the way Pothos laughs and pats him on the head.  </p>
<p>“Don’t worry about it,”  the god pushes himself to his feet and steps out of sight to Jason’s left, hands trailing over his skin to let Jason know he’s still there even when he can’t see.  They spread wide over his upper back and press down, and suddenly Pothos’ voice is <em>right</em> by his ear.</p>
<p>“Let him watch,” he whispers, “while I take his precious alpha son,”  a hand slides down his back and between his legs to grab his cock around the base, his knot inflating immediately under Pothos’ touch; “smooth out his knot,” teeth run around the curve of his ear, threatening, “and tease him until he’s wet and begging for my cock.”</p>
<p>Pothos bites down on the flesh of Jason’s ear and Jason throws his head back against Pothos’ shoulder and <em>moans</em>, feels the skin of his face <em>blazing</em> with the heat of his blush as the god pressing him down on the breeding bench chuckles huskily.  </p>
<p>“Oh yes, little wolf.  I know how much you want it.  That impossible little dream that you only let yourself think about late at night when no one can see you.  The wish you denied yourself even when the gods offered to grant it.  Did you think I didn’t see it in the back of your mind when you stood before your father in your shining armor and victorious alpha mask?  Did you think no one noticed the longing hiding behind your denial?”</p>
<p>Jason pants and shakes his head because <em>no</em>, he remembers expecting Eros to give him away at any moment, remembers locking himself in the bathroom of his cabin as soon as he could get away and finally letting himself go, shaking like a leaf and gasping for breath until the <em>fear</em> drained away and left him with the cold stone of a future living as something other than he wanted to be sitting uncomfortably in his gut.</p>
<p>Lips press against the back of his neck as he’s laid back down on the bench, the hand on his dick squeezing his knot once before moving on to play with his balls teasingly.  “You have no secret desires that I can’t see, little wolf.”  Jason whines at the name, and at the thick fingers rubbing circles over the skin of his perineum.  When Pothos next speaks, his voice carries the weight of his divinity, words that bend reality around them dropping from his lips like marble blocks forming a foundation.  <em>“Your service has pleased us, Jason Grace; accept this gift from myself and my brothers.”</em></p>
<p>It’s like charmspeak, only <em>more</em>.  It washes over him, euphoric <em>approval</em> making his skin tingle and a broken moan spill from his lips.  The flood of it is gone moments later, but he feels lighter in its wake.  Pothos’ laugh echoes through the darkening evening, bouncing off the side of the palace and lifting up to the heavens. The god’s hands shift on him, sliding over his hips and grasping and moulding the flesh of his ass for a moment before lips press against the base of his spine and send another flash of heat through him.</p>
<p>“Let us begin.”</p>
<p>Jason swallows hard.  Pothos’ hands and lips leave his skin, though Jason can still feel the hot puffs of his breath over his lower back.  He can nearly <em>feel</em> the weight of Pothos’ gaze on the spread of his body.  Anticipation flickers beneath his skin, the almost unreal promise Pothos has made resounding through him.  The force of his desire is a familiar pressure in Jason’s breast, but for the first time it doesn’t seem <em>trapped</em>, too big to fit inside him but impossible to release from the cage of his ribs.  </p>
<p>He jumps at the first touch.</p>
<p>A single finger presses against the head of his cock, touch light and teasing as it collects the drops of pre that have gathered there.  It begins a leisurely massage of the sensitive skin in the notch just under his head; the constant touch maddening.  Jason squirms in his restraints, trying to beg for more with his body, but forced to accept his pleasure as it is offered.  To submit himself to Pothos’ control over his arousal and hope that the god sees fit to give him more.</p>
<p>“Fuck!”  Jason’s voice comes out high and breathy and for some reason that turns him on even more.  </p>
<p>“Good boy.”</p>
<p>Pothos’ finger presses a little harder on its next circle and Jason collapses face-down on the bench and moans embarrassingly loudly.</p>
<p>“That’s it, little wolf.  Let me hear you.”</p>
<p>Jason’s not sure he’s physically capable of disobeying that order at the moment.  Noises tumble from his lips without his permission until he can’t be sure if the things that come out of his mouth are prayers to the gods or wordless sex-noises.  Pothos’ other hand grabs him around the knot and Jason shouts as crackles of electricity jump between this teeth.  </p>
<p>“Ready Jason?”  Pothos asks, voice a predatory growl that sends goosebumps flying over his skin.  “Ready to come like an alpha one last time?”</p>
<p>
  <em>“Yes!”</em>
</p>
<p>Pothos continues to tease just under Jason’s tip and around the girth of his knot.  It shouldn’t be enough to get him off (alpha cocks are notoriously insensitive everywhere other than around he knot to make sure Omegas’ breeding drive is sated), but he can already feel his balls lifting and tightening against his perineum as if he’s about to cum.  Jason’s breaths come shallow and increasingly labored as his dick surges towards orgasm without waiting for the rest of his body to catch up, the gap between his arousal and his body yawning painfully wider.</p>
<p>The world is disappearing out from underneath him; he’s falling and flying at the same time and the sea breeze whips around him angrily, sparks jumping between the tips of his fingers as his body tips over the edge of something, and he feels cum start to trickle almost painfully from the end of his dick. It’s not satisfying, does hardly anything to release the pressure he feels building in his groin.  Jason gasps out wounded little noises from the depths of his throat with each slow, torturous dribble that falls from his slit.</p>
<p>He jolts at the touch of a dexterous, strong, <em>wet</em> muscle to the tip of his cock; Pothos’ tongue tasting him maddeningly as this not-quite-orgasm drags itself painfully through him.  Pothos’ hand around his knot squeezes gently and Jason throws back his head as far as the collar and chain restraining him will allow and clenches a sob behind his teeth.  </p>
<p>It should be setting him off like a shaken bottle of soda, should offer some <em>relief;</em> but instead the hand on his dick makes his gut clench and breath catch in his lungs and desperate tears run down his cheeks and <em>why is he like this?  Why can’t he just enjoy it?  Why does it feel so wrong it hurts?</em></p>
<p><em>Finally</em>, the hand around his knot loosens, fingers coming to cinch just above it around his length.  Jason chokes out a breathless, relieved noise, even as the trickle of his ruined orgasm continues.</p>
<p>“I see you, Jason Grace,” Pothos soothes, thick fingers tightening their grip minutely around him even as the digit teasing beneath his cock-head continues it’s excruciating dance.  “It hurts, right?”  Jason frantically nods his head.  “I’m sorry, little wolf.  This isn’t what you need, is it?”  Another desperate nod.  </p>
<p>Lips press against the inside of his thigh, and the hand around the top of his knot tightens still further.</p>
<p>“Let me fix that for you, then.”</p>
<p>
  <em>“Please!”</em>
</p>
<p>The words are barely past Jason’s lips when the tight circle of Pothos’ fingers starts <em>pushing</em> towards the base of his cock, catching against the swell of his knot and compressing it against his root.</p>
<p>
  <em>“Aaah!”</em>
</p>
<p>There’s a burst of coolness, <em>relief</em>, radiating outwards from where Pothos’ hand grasps him, the flesh that used to be his knot suddenly coming loose beneath his skin and slipping back up into his body; burrowing deep between his hips and settling as a new, heady weight behind his pubic bone.  </p>
<p>
  <em>“Fuck!”</em>
</p>
<p>Jason voice is nearly a scream as his orgasm instantly jumps from ruined trickle to a roaring torrent; he goes limp upon the padded bench beneath him, twitching as cum practically gushes out of his dick and down over smooth leather to drip into the grass.</p>
<p>Pothos coos from somewhere behind him, one hand continuing to stroke Jason’s twitching dick through the rush of his release.  “There we go,” he laughs,  “Let it all out.  Does that feel better?”</p>
<p>“Gods <em>yes!”</em>  Jason moans, face pressed into the padding of the bench, chest heaving in breaths of heavy fruit-and-flower-scented air.  He feels lighter somehow, freer.  Like a weight he didn’t know he was carrying has been lifted off his heart.  He suddenly can’t stop himself from laughing.  </p>
<p>Pothos laughs with him, presses an affectionate kiss to the inside of Jason’s thigh.  The god’s free hand brushes against Jason’s rim, fingers wet with something tacky as they tease him open.  Jason’s laughter morphs into a stuttering groan.  <em>“Aaah!”</em></p>
<p>“Oh, we’re not anywhere <em>close</em> to being done here, little wolf,”  Pothos cheekily presses inward until one of his slick fingers breaches Jason’s tight ring of muscle. “It’ll feel even better in a little bit, just you wait,”  The slide of the digit through Jason’s rim is strangely <em>satisfying</em>, Pothos’ slow, deliberate movements setting off clouds of butterflies in Jason’s stomach.  </p>
<p>“How long’s it been since someone’s laid you out and given your pretty hole the attention it deserves?  Pothos asks.  “Not since that half-sister of mine in college, right?</p>
<p>“Y-yeah,” Jason admits.  There really hasn’t been anyone since Piper he’s trusted enough to share this side of himself with.  She’d walked him through exploring so much of this part of himself; her charmspeak taking up the slack where her omega pheromones couldn’t induce his submission.  Piper made him take his first (strap-on) knot, gave him his first rimjob, clasped the sweaty crotch of his workout boxer briefs over his face and made him breathe in his own pheromones while he came untouched on her fingers for the first time.</p>
<p>They didn’t work, in the end; but <em>gods</em> did she take care of him better than anyone else he’s dated since.</p>
<p>“Well, you’re in for a treat, then.”</p>
<p>Pothos’ finger pushes deeper into him, stroking softly over Jason’s inner walls, lube dripping down from his hole in thick streams.  He pulls out for a second, and comes back with two fingers and more of the thick lube. Jason sighs and leans into the additional stretch, heat blooming inside him everywhere the god’s fingers touch.</p>
<p>The fingers set a steady rhythm: Press in, paint his insides with more lube, stroke his prostate, pull out, get more lube, repeat.  Jason relaxes into it, moaning contentedly while Pothos feeds lube into him until he’s practically dripping with the stuff. </p>
<p>“Nothing like an alpha’s seed to really get an omega’s hole wet, right?”</p>
<p>Pothos’ words snap him out of his enjoyment of the cycle, even as the god’s lube-slick (or is it cum-slick?) fingers burrow deep into Jason’s hole again and rub firmly over his prostate.  Jason clenches involuntarily around them, forcing another loud, gasping, <em>needy</em> sound from his own lips and what feels like a river of <em>apparently his own cum</em> out of his ass.  </p>
<p>Now that he’s paying attention, Jason can feel a tingling heat sparking low in his gut that wasn’t there a few minutes ago.  It pulses slowly with his heartbeat, a little stronger each time.  He flexes, but while his dick does get a little bit softer with the diverted blood-flow, the little fire within him grows unhindered.</p>
<p>When he relaxes it feels like his hole is much looser around Pothos’ fingers.  And then they’re gone, leaving him empty.</p>
<p>Jason doesn’t remember being empty making him feel so… <em>hungry</em>, before.</p>
<p>Pothos’ (now dry) fingers brushes through the thick, coarse hair that covers his groin and the skin between his legs.  Jason tries his best not to imagine the god smirking to himself as he licks Jason’s cum off his fingers.  He’s not successful.</p>
<p>The god’s hand passes over his perineum again, and this time Jason jerks against the restraints and gasps out a startled noise as his skin lights up with a buzzing-tingling sensation.  When it fades Jason can feel the play of the evening breezes against his taint with renewed fidelity; but it’s not until Pothos runs his tongue over newly-sensitive skin that Jason realizes that all the hair that used to grow there is gone.</p>
<p>“A pretty omega like you doesn’t need all this alpha fur, little wolf,”  Pothos teases, hands now washing the same magic over the skin of his balls.  Jason whimpers.  Everywhere Pothos’ hands wander flares with the same prickling sensation followed by coolness and maddening sensitivity.  His ass, his hips, his crotch; sensual caresses around trembling thighs, a teasing massage down the length of his spread legs.  Jason jerks his head back and tries to hold his moans behind his teeth when clever fingers tickle lightly over the inside of his knees.</p>
<p>Sweat beads on his newly-smooth skin, turning it slick and slippery wherever it rubs against the bench’s leather.  The sensual caress of the breeze makes him shiver, brain half-wondering if the ribbons of air that slide along his legs and taint have been commanded by his father to tease him.</p>
<p>Pothos interrupts that particular train of thought before Jason can decide whether the idea of Zeus watching turns him on or off.  The god’s hips press against the inside of Jason’s thighs, forcing him into a slightly wider spread as Pothos bends down over Jason’s sweat-slick back so he can whisper in Jason’s ear.</p>
<p>“Let’s get rid of the rest of that pelt of yours, little wolf,” he growls in Jason’s ear, teeth nipping lightly at the cartilage.  Jason groans as strong hands slide between him and the padded top of the bench, trailing more tingling and slippery-smooth skin in their wake as they drag from his groin to his collarbone.  He gasps as wide fingertips skate over his nipples teasingly; imitating the wisps of wind that coil and caress his spread limbs and bare back.</p>
<p>Pothos’ touch leaves him smoother, skin softer than it’s been since Piper dragged him to a fancy spa when they were nineteen and still convinced they could make their relationship work forever.  He’d come home smelling like expensive massage oil and craving cucumber slices, skin glowing and soft.  It’s a good memory, a time where he felt closer to <em>right</em> than his usual everyday self does.</p>
<p>This time it’s better though, because of the persistent warmth that pulses behind his navel now; growing brighter and hotter even as his body seeks to contain it. Heat blooms wherever Pothos has smoothed his skin, his body aching for touch, longing to push into the caress of gentle fingers.</p>
<p>Pothos' hands slip out from under him and over his shoulders, thick fingers tracing over the buzzed hair at the base of his skull and up through pale-gold strands that are just long enough to start curling at the ends.  They grip, tugging his head up and backwards off the bench until the collar around the thick column of his neck stops keeps Jason from moving further.  </p>
<p>And then they <em>keep pulling</em>, and Jason’s scalp lights up with a sensation that isn’t really pain, but isn’t pleasure either, and Jason can <em>feel</em> his hair getting longer in Pothos’ grasp.  Errant strands that escape his fingers tease at the curves of his ears as they curl outwards.  Jason moans because his brain can’t figure out what else to do with the sensation; not just of being able to feel his hair grow (which is very strange) but of being <em>controlled</em> like this.  A firm grip putting him <em>exactly</em> where it wants him, to <em>give</em> rather than to <em>take</em>.  He pants and whines into the perfumed air of the deepening evening, sparks dancing behind his teeth as the part of himself he has buried for the sake of duty and public image and <em>fear</em> is dragged exultantly to the surface. </p>
<p>“Just a little more to hold on to up here, yeah?”  Pothos breathes in his ear while grateful moisture gathers in the corners of Jason’s eyes.  “An extra inch or two for some sweet alpha to pull on when you’re hungry for it?”  Pothos tugs again, teasingly.</p>
<p>Jason’s cock twitches where it lies, still hard against the downward slope of the bench.  His thighs try to flex outwards even further around Pothos’ hips and his hole clenches on nothing.  Pothos’ half-hard cock lies along the crack of Jason’s ass, drooling pre-cum onto the small of his back like a lazy promise.</p>
<p>He can feel his own cum oozing slowly out of him, milky white turning tacky in the breeze as it runs down towards his balls, thin trickles of it splitting around the mound of them to drip sluggishly down onto the soft leather beneath him.  The heat inside him stirs restlessly, sinking lower in his hips as the sensation begins to invade his thoughts.</p>
<p>Fingers unwind from his hair and comb through his new length gently, guiding his head back down to the padded surface of the bench.  Pothos’ husky voice hums approvingly in his ear when Jason tries to follow the touch as it slides away, down over his face, tingling heat flowing over his cheeks and chin and neck as his two-day-old stubble vanishes.  They curve around his collarbone and cup over his shoulders, Pothos letting go briefly to step around into a better position to skim his palms down his arms, circling around the edges of the cuffs securing his hands before gliding teasing fingers back in towards Jason’s armpits.  </p>
<p>His body jolts when skilled fingers tease the skin there, greatly thinning the thatch of darker hair that grows where his arms meet his torso with a touch, and brushing what remains into softer, finer strands.  </p>
<p>Lips press against the base of his neck and trace down the dip of his spine, hands curving over his sides to follow their trail, a final blanket of shivering magic enveloping his skin.  “Do you feel it yet, Jason?”  Pothos asks in his husky voice, breath puffing softly against sun-warmed skin.  </p>
<p>“F-feel what?”  Jason gasps out.  Pothos’ mouth is edging closer and closer to where he’s spread open and vulnerable.  The threat of stubble begins to rasp between his cheeks as the god drags the broad face of his tongue through the little puddle of pre he’d left behind earlier.  He chuckles and drags blunt teeth over now-clean skin before pulling away.  Moments later he’s sliding into Jason’s field of view once more, predatory smirk in place as he crouches down to whisper in Jason’s ear.</p>
<p>“Your <em>slick</em>, Jason.”  Pothos gets a hand back in his hair so he can pull Jason’s head aside, exposing his neck before diving in to mark pale skin with teeth and lips.  “Don’t you feel it?”  Strong fingers tug on his hair commandingly as those lips trail up underneath his jaw until they’re sweeping up the point of his chin, Pothos’ next words growled into Jason’s own mouth.  “That hole of yours getting <em>hungry?”</em> </p>
<p>Pothos’ lips seal themselves over his own, tongue prying them open to let the god taste him while Jason shivers and moans.  He knows what Pothos is trying to do; has seen Annabeth do it to Percy when they’re feeling drunk and handsy.  Watched the shameless grin spread over his best friend’s face while Annabeth attacks his neck with her mouth, the dark stain of his pleasure spreading between his legs while he straddles her lap.</p>
<p><em>Fuck</em> if this isn’t right out of his dreams; the kind that end with a midnight trip to the laundry room to get the cum out of his underwear and sheets.  If he closes his eyes he can imagine himself in between them.  Annabeth’s mouth and tongue on him, revving him up until he’s dripping into his boxer-briefs and crying her name; Percy’s large, dark hands slipping down the back of his jeans, collecting Jason’s slick on his fingers so both he and Annabeth can get a taste of him. Percy’s wicked smirk curving his lips as he whispers just what they plan to do to Jason once they get him alone; promises to fuck him just the way he needs it until he can’t take it anymore.</p>
<p>He can feel his rim clenching and fluttering open, desperate as he whines into Pothos’ hot mouth.  Shivers at the husky laugh that get’s lost in their shared breath, whiffs of the familiar musk blowing hot over the coals that pulse with heat below his navel.  Nothing about this is his to control; the kiss, his spread limbs, the blooming of warmth in his belly that seems to grow more intense with each passing second that Pothos spends touching him.  </p>
<p>“You feel that, little omega?”  The god murmurs into his lips.  “That river of heat, slipping through you?  Lighting you up inside?”  </p>
<p>
  <em>Yes.</em>
</p>
<p>“You want it, don’t you?”</p>
<p>
  <em>Yes!</em>
</p>
<p>“Can’t wait for it; can’t wait to show me how much you need something inside you?”</p>
<p>
  <em>Please, I want it!</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Show me.”</em>
</p>
<p>“Oh FUCK! AAAAHHNNN!”</p>
<p>Jason’s loudest moan yet rips from his mouth, lips going slack against Pothos as what feels like the lump of muscle that used to be his knot starts <em>moving</em> again; rubbing up against his prostate from the inside, wrapping around it and <em>squeezing</em>, heating up and squirming and clenching as the warm flood he’s been holding in his gut starts to <em>flow</em>.</p>
<p>Pothos’ teeth are back on his neck.  Jason doesn’t even remember him moving, but now that his mouth is unoccupied, it’s like he can’t stop <em>talking</em>.</p>
<p>“I- I can feel it!  Fuck, it’s <em>moving!</em> Pothos!  I-“</p>
<p>Fingers twist in his hair and <em>pull</em>, and Jason’s words are interrupted by a stunned gasp as a lightning bolt of <em>fire</em> races down his spine and through his gut and he thinks his hair is getting longer again but it’s hard to focus on anything other than the white heat sinking ever lower between his hips.  It crawls agonizingly toward his shivering prostate, so close now it’s almost as if he can feel the individual rivulets coating his insides.  Jason tugs agains the cuffs on his wrists, wishes he could run his hands over his navel and down to where the burning flood is advancing-</p>
<p>“OH <em>FUCK!”</em></p>
<p>The river of heat inside him meets his prostate and it’s like there’s suddenly a miniature sun clenching and expanding behind his balls.  Thunder <em>crashes</em> through the clear evening sky, huge branches of lightning scrawling frenzied paths through suddenly-charged air, leaving behind stark negative images branded across Jason’s unseeing eyes and the smell of ozone filling his nose.  A gale whips across his skin as fiery <em>need</em> pours into Jason’s prostate like white-hot molten iron into a foundry mould.  His body jerks and struggles against his restraints, utterly helpless against the tide of <em>want-need-hunger-desire-craving</em> that washes him away until he’s drowning in it.  </p>
<p>He’s so <em>empty</em>, his hole befret of something to fill it, his heart deprived of a mate to claim it.  Words try to tumble from his lips (<em>take me, fill me, claim me, alpha, alpha, please!),</em> but his own gasping sobs block them. </p>
<p>He doesn’t feel Pothos’ lips brushing his ear, but his charmed voice pierces through the deluge of sensation like one of Eros’ arrows piercing a heart.</p>
<p>
  <em>“Relax your hole.”</em>
</p>
<p>He’s helpless before the power of Pothos’ voice.  He cries out in confused ecstasy as he feels the muscles in his hips and groin release their tension; the blazing heat of his bewitched prostate overflowing as he squirms at the feeling of his hole and channel dilating at the god’s command.  He feels the delicate skin of his insides prickling, a hot and greedy tingling spreading out from the pulsing bundle of nerve and muscle behind his dick until his inner walls are practically <em>crawling</em> with it.</p>
<p>Pothos holds something up in front of him, but Jason can barely keep his eyes open, much less focus; at least until Pothos’ godly voice commands him to <em>“Watch.”</em></p>
<p>It’s a mirror, but instead of reflecting Jason’s flushed and panting face (which he suddenly realizes he <em>really</em> wants to see), he sees himself from behind; spread open and rock-hard, his own cum splattered and drying slowly across the bench and his own perineum, white against pale golden-tan.</p>
<p>What catches his attention, though, is the hungry circle of his hole; relaxed and practically hanging open, the pale pink skin of his inner walls increasingly visible as the prickling sensation within him intensifies.  Behind the mirror Pothos is shifting, but Jason can’t tear his eyes away from his own ass, from the way his hole flexes open with each of his breaths, but never clenches; as if invisible fingers are stretching him open.  He worries his lower lip between his teeth as moans rise in his throat at the thought-</p>
<p>
  <em>“Open your mouth.”</em>
</p>
<p>Jason obeys unthinkingly, jaw going slack without taking his eyes off the mirror.  He’s harder than he thinks he’s ever been in his life; but his cock stays slender and sensitive, no knot inflating to hold back his pleasure, no thatch of hair to hide the way his balls pull tight and high against the root of his shaft.</p>
<p>No way to conceal the way his hole is practically <em>begging</em> for something to fill it.  </p>
<p>Musk and masculine spiciness fill his nose, and his mouth waters hungrily as the fog of arousal presses closer around him.  Something thick and blunt and <em>incredible-smelling</em> pushes against his lips, tasting of skin and salt when Jason touches his tongue to it.  Recognition flashes dimly through the back of Jason’s mind: <em>Cock</em>.  It spreads his lips with it’s girth, the head pressing down against his tongue; trapping it in place, the taste of it intoxicating and spicy drowning his thoughts in desire-</p>
<p>
  <em>Alpha.</em>
</p>
<p>Inside his hole something <em>sparks</em>.  He watches his rim finally <em>clench</em> in the mirror.  His dick twitches <em>hard</em>, balls jumping as Pothos’ cock slips between his lips.  It’s as if Pothos’ advance is physically pushing him over the edge into orgasm as his cock slides over his tongue.  His moans buzz around his teeth and he’s not sure how he can still see what’s happening behind him because Pothos <em>has</em> to be too close for him to hold the mirror properly; but it’s like the images are being projected directly into Jason’s head now, there even when he blinks.  He feels Pothos lean forward, and sees-and-feels the god's hands on his ass, spreading the globes apart, exposing him even further.  Pothos’ dick pulses and seems to get even bigger as he admires Jason’s defenseless hole.  There’s a satisfied grunt from somewhere above him and then-</p>
<p>
  <em>“Swallow.”</em>
</p>
<p>Pothos’ dick twitches and suddenly Jason’s mouth is full of warm salty-bitter-sweet-perfect cum.  Before he has time to even consider it he’s swallowing, drawing the head further toward the back of his throat even as a second flood fills his mouth.  Some escapes from his lips to run down his chin and neck, everywhere it touches suddenly blowing hot and sensitive, stoking the fire in his belly and between his hips.  Shoving him bodily over the edge as the last of his walls crumble and nothing remains to hold him back from chasing his needs.</p>
<p>Jason’s rim clenches and flexes wide before his eyes, the molten flood between his hips finally breaking free of its dam inside him.  He watches as Pothos’ fingers press down and pull out on the skin either side of his hole, spreading him open as his dick tenses and shoots and the first trickle of hot-wet slick <em>pours</em> out of him; inner walls shivering as the feeling of his slick flowing over them makes his prostate throb and twitch.  Pothos’ dick is suddenly gone from his mouth, and Jason’s cries of pleasure are suddenly deafening in the previously-quiet evening air.</p>
<p>The same tingle from earlier sparks to life in his left wrist, but it’s almost immediately drowned out by the still-growing empty ache between his legs.  Jason sobs around the hoarseness of his throat, the need to feel something spreading him open all-encompassing.  </p>
<p>
  <em>“Fuck me!  Please!  I need it!”</em>
</p>
<p>It sounds like Pothos snaps his fingers, and suddenly the padded leather and restraints are gone.  In their place are soft blue satin sheets and silken scarves that bind his wrists together; his own debauched reflection staring back at him from mirror-like surface of a golden headboard.  His legs are free, finally able to spread as wide as Jason wants.  Two thick fingers drag firmly through the slick that now runs freely from his hole before a broad chest settles over him and presses him into the bed, muscular hips and thighs pinning him down at the waist and pushing Jason's own thighs apart so Pothos’ thick cock can grind over his spent balls and twitching hole.  </p>
<p>“I know, little wolf,”  Pothos’ voice whispers in his ear, “You need it so bad.  Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”</p>
<p>True to his word, on his next thrust the god adjusts his angle enough that the head of his cock catches on Jason’s slick and greedy rim and starts to push inside.  Jason’s eyelids flutter and he moans almost drunkenly at the feeling of his hole stretching around Pothos’ girth.  Strong fingers grasp and pull at his hair once again, and when he gasps two more fingers covered in his own slick slide past his lips and paint the taste of himself on his tongue.  Jason tastes ozone and fresh spring breezes and heavy-addicting musk and his eyes roll back in his head when Pothos’ hips press forward and pin him down by his wet hole to <em>fuck</em> him.</p>
<p>It’s over embarrassingly quickly.  The sounds of his slick oozing around Pothos’ cock, the taste of it in his mouth, Pothos’ hand in his hair restraining him, and the feeling of the god’s swelling knot grinding against his rim drive him up the wall and into his third orgasm before his dick has a chance to get properly hard again.  Pothos keeps going, of course, the slapping and squelching of their hips meeting making Jason flush red as a tomato even as he continues to moan around the god’s fingers, and then into the mattress when Pothos pushes himself upright to better press his rapidly-swelling knot through Jason’s fluttering rim.  The brief snap of electric sensation in his left wrist goes completely unnoticed.</p>
<p>The hand still in his hair keeps his head and chest pinned to the bed while the other, still spit-slick and cool on Jason’s skin, pulls his hips up into classic omega presentation posture.  Jason knows it’s supposed to feel good, why else would it be such a natural position; but he isn’t prepared for it to undo him the way it does.  It’s like a switch is flipped in his head; and suddenly all he can do is pant and moan and arch his back and rub his sensitive nipples on the cool-smooth sheets and listen to his mind <em>shatter</em> under the deep grind of Pothos’ cock pressing somehow even <em>deeper</em>.  The knot’s nearly inside him now, spreading his rim wide with each thrust, knocking the thoughts out of Jason’s head until all he can do is <em>beg</em>.</p>
<p><em>“Please!</em>  Gods please knot me!  I need it!  Need you inside me!  <em>Fuck me!”</em></p>
<p>Jason can see Pothos’ predatory smirk in the mirror-bright surface of the headboard as the alpha above him tightens his fingers in his hair and bends down to growl in his ear.</p>
<p>
  <em>“Take it.”</em>
</p>
<p>Pothos grinds forward once more against him and Jason watches himself in the headboard as he breaks apart with the pleasure of the stretch, sweat beading at his brow, skin flushed deep red, throat bared, eyes half-lidded and lips slack around a truly <em>filthy</em> moan as he’s forced wide open on the alpha above him.  Pothos’ teeth scrape along the exposed scent gland near the back of his jaw and Jason cries out as the sensation lights him up.  The god’s hips <em>stutter</em> forward at the sound of his voice and-</p>
<p>“Oh <em>Gods!”</em></p>
<p>The widest part of Pothos’ knot presses past Jason’s stretched-out ring of muscle, and suddenly he’s clenching and squirming and <em>writhing</em> as his body drags the alpha’s knot the rest of the way in in a single slick and greedy slide.  His rim clamps down tightly around the base of Pothos’ knot, locking them together as orgasm crashes over him once more; his slick inner walls flexing and wringing around the knot pressed against his prostate, Jason’s cock twitching feebly until Pothos nearly knocks Jason down with a jerk of his hips; hot god-seed flooding his insides.</p>
<p>Pothos’ arms wrap around his waist and Jason finds himself hoisted up into the god’s lap; his hands no longer secured to the headboard, but still tied together, wrists tingling in the aftershocks of his first dry orgasm of the night.  The change in angle grinds Pothos’ knot against his prostate hard, Jason’s own weight working against him as an embarrassingly high and breathy <em>“Fuck!”</em> Falls from his lips.  Pothos laughs quietly in his ear, big hands running up over the washboard of Jason’s flat stomach, holding him close as the god shifts them until they can recline against the pile of pillows that appear magically with a wave of Pothos’ hand.  Jason can feel the god’s seed still pumping through his cock, little moans sighing out with his every exhale as he’s filled.</p>
<p>Pothos holds him like that for a while, the sky finally darkening into night and the first stars and planets showing their faces to look down on Jason’s fucked-out body.  Cool ribbons of wind off the ocean ruffle his hair and dry the sweat on his skin, relaxing him into Pothos’ touch even as his insides flutter and clench around the cock knotted inside him.  </p>
<p>Eventually, Pothos tugs at the silk binding his wrists and it falls away easily, broad palms covering Jason’s hands, urging him on him as he investigates the newness of his body.  Pothos’ fingers guide his own as they explore between his legs; tracing around where he’s spread on Pothos’ girth, appreciating the new smoothness and sensitivity of his perineum, feeling where the previously-thick skin where his knot used to be has softened to match the rest of his cock, no longer constantly pushing his length awkwardly away from his body.  The other hand sweeps up and over his now-hairless chest to press into newly-sensitive scent glands on his throat and under his jaw, drawing another panting moan from Jason’s mouth.</p>
<p>“Feel good, little wolf?”  Pothos asks, leaving Jason’s hands to wander on their own for the first time as he slides his own down to cup and spread Jason’s thighs just a little bit wider.  Jason’s breath hitches slightly as the new position lets the god’s knot sink a little deeper inside him, but he manages to gasp out something that he hopes Pothos takes as a ‘yes.’</p>
<p>“Good.”  Lips press against the skin behind his ear.  He can feel the curve of Pothos’ grin on them.  “You put on quite the show for the big man in the sky, too.  Ganymede’s gonna be limping tomorrow for sure.”</p>
<p>Jason should probably be embarrassed.  The thought of his <em>dad</em> watching Jason moan and squirm and beg to be fucked should be gross and weird; but the <em>admiration</em> running through Pothos’ words makes it hard for Jason to feel anything but <em>proud</em>.  Somehow, Zeus getting so turned on by watching them that he has to plow Jason’s sort-of step-father into the mattress repeatedly makes Jason shiver and clench on Pothos’ knot.  How many other gods watched as Zeus’ strong, heroic alpha son let himself be moulded into a pleading, dripping omega?</p>
<p>Pothos’ knot is finally starting to deflate inside him, the god’s orgasm finally over.  Jason throws back his head and groans to the night sky as the lazily-softening shaft bushes over the hyper-sensitive skin of his insides, the hot-sparkling lake of Jason’s slick and Pothos’ cum starting to trickle out of him.</p>
<p>A trickle becomes a stream, and then a veritable river; and then Jason’s hole loses its grip on Pothos’ length and the god’s thick shaft slips torturously out of him. Sticky-wet flesh paints his skin with seed and slick until two of Pothos’ fingers drag through the mess and press it back into his hole; Jason panting and moaning and clenching to try and keep it all in.  Pothos quickly takes pity on him, strong hands flipping Jason over onto his front and pressing the demigod’s face into the juncture Pothos’ neck and shoulder.  Jason shoves his nose into the soft skin of Pothos’ throat and breathes deeply as the god’s hands slide down his back to massage the muscular globes of his ass.</p>
<p>“Now, much as I might want to,” Pothos whispers into Jason’s hair, “I can’t stay with you all night.  So how about something nice and thick to fill up that needy hole of yours until morning?”  One of Pothos’ hands leaves his skin, and when it comes back it trails something heavy and cool and metallic through the mess between his thighs; teasing at his entrance.  </p>
<p>
  <em>“Open.”</em>
</p>
<p>Jason moans into the spicy-smelling skin of Pothos’ neck as his hole relaxes under the influence of magic-laced words.  The toy Pothos is teasing him with slips easily past his rim, cool smooth metal sinking into him and spreading him wide under its own weight.  Jason gasps as the widest part of what’s clearly a large plug slips past his body’s token resistance and the cold-sensitive muscle of his channel drags it deeper inside in a single quick slide.  His breath hitches as the cool metal presses against his prostate and the curved base of the toy taps against his perineum, matching its curve and laying a blazing line of sensation between his balls and his hole.</p>
<p>Pothos taps on the base of the toy playfully, and laughs in Jason’s face when he jerks his head up to glare at him.  Gently he’s slid off Pothos’ broad chest and onto the heavenly softness of the bed itself, one of Pothos’ warm hands stroking down the curve of his back soothingly as Jason adjusts to the absence of the god’s heated body.  Jason lets himself push into the touch the way he’s always wanted to but never quite managed.</p>
<p>He squirms around until he’s lying on his back, only moaning a few times when the shifting of the heavy plug spreads him just right.  Pothos laughs when Jason reaches out for him, but bends down to kiss his breath away one last time anyway.  Jason rubs his newly-smooth thighs together as the god’s tongue strokes along his own, the motion squeezing down on the unyielding weight inside him, shifting it deliciously against his prostate.  He hums contentedly into Pothos’ mouth.</p>
<p>“Beautiful, needy little wolf, aren’t you,”  Pothos murmurs against his lips when they stop for breath.  “Should I call for the nymphs to come and play with you while you slumber?”  The god’s hand slides down the planes of Jason’s stomach, slips a teasing finger between his clenched thighs to jiggle the base of the plug teasingly.  “Have them lick my seed from your greedy hole while you dream; let them spread you wide on their cocks and fill you up until you’re moaning for more in your sleep?”  Another hot-wet press of lips against his own.</p>
<p>“Shall I have them hold you close while Himeros sends you dreams of those friends of yours pressing you down into the mattress and claiming you as their own?”  He asks in a soft and serious voice.</p>
<p>Jason <em>whines</em>.  He doesn’t know which he wants, everything Pothos suggests sounds so <em>good</em>.  Finally he gives up and just <em>nods</em>.</p>
<p>
  <em>All of it!</em>
</p>
<p>A breath of laughter puffs against his lips, and Jason distantly registers the mattress dipping under the weight of multiple new arrivals.  Long, slim fingers and shorter, blunter ones reach out to him as he feels Pothos’ presence retreating.  When Jason opens his eyes a vaguely-familiar and exceedingly handsome nymph has taken the god’s place hovering over his face, delicate fingers threading through Jason’s hair as his head is tilted back for another kiss.  Warm, smooth bodies slide close alongside his own under the sheets, gentle hands teasing his thighs apart and his arms around narrow shoulders.  Slim, muscular hips slot against his own, and the familiar nymph above him breathes a breathy moan into Jason’s mouth as their half-hard cocks slip against each other.  New fingers tease the base of the plug, pulling it slowly from his hole, the body-warm metal almost hot against his slick skin.  </p>
<p>It’s Jason’s turn to moan this time, panting and arching into the grind of the immortal’s rapidly-hardening shaft as it slips between his legs and rubs over his sensitive rim.  He wants it in him, craves it despite the way sleep creeps around the corners of his vision.  The head of the nymph’s uncut length is wide and spongey and makes heat flare in his stomach whenever it catches on his hole.  Finally, his hips find the right angle and it’s spreading him open and sinking in-</p>
<p>
  <em>“Sleep.”</em>
</p>
<p>The slide feels so good, the weight inside him incredible, but suddenly it’s all slipping away from him as Jason’s eyes droop obediently.  He wants to hang on to the sensation, but gentle fingers of sleep pluck at his 'grasp on consciousness, leading him away into the darkness of his mind while skilled and sensual hands and mouths cradle his body until he’s ready to return to it.  The scents of clean sweat and the sea envelop him, and kiss-swollen and slick lips shape around a satisfied <em>“Ohhhh-“</em> as he’s filled.  </p>
<p>Overhead, the bright point of light that is Jupiter ascends up the dome of the sky.  Wind rustles between the boughs of the fruit trees like a sigh.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Interlude: Annabeth and Percy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"So, Eros basically told us to fuck on his brother's altar," is Percy's opening line when the two of them walk into the Big House upon their arrival back at Camp Half-Blood.</p><p>Annabeth is very grateful that Chiron is not phased by much, and has been around long enough that the gods' weird shenanigans no longer cause him to bat an eyelid.</p><p>"And where is Jason?"  He asks, apparently completely accepting of the situation.</p><p>"Still in Florida," she answers, before Percy can blab about how awkward this situation is to the campers who are doubtless listening in.  "They said we could have him back when we'd paid our respects at five different shrines to Anteros."  She grimaces.  "Eros, uh... <em>strongly suggested</em> that he would prefer a physical demonstration."</p><p>Chiron's eyebrows furrow, obviously puzzled.  "I see.  What else-"</p><p>Sh cuts him off, elbowing Percy in the side to keep him from blabbing Jason's situation <em>again.  </em>She loves him, really she does; he's an amazing boyfriend/mate/life-partner.  He's just got a chronic case of foot-in-mouth disease.</p><p>"There are additional conditions," she confirms, holding up her leftt wrist to show him the five small marks there.  "The more of these that appear, the longer the the effects of his stay there will linger."  She feels herself flushing, but doesn't look away.  "I'm sure you've been around long enough to guess what they stand for?"</p><p>Understanding dawns on Chiron's face.  "Ahhh.  Yes, this would not be the first time such a thing has happened."  The centaur regards them critically.  "And I suppose I can see... never mind."  He waves the half-finished thought away.  "You were saying?"</p><p>"Is it okay if we, uh... make use of Anteros' shrine for a bit?"  Percy asks.  Annabeth can tell he's excited, despite the urgency of the moment.  Her boyfriend's always had a bit of an exhibitionist streak.  If they weren't wearing traveling clothes she'd probably be able to make out the wet spot on the seat of his pants by now.</p><p>"And do you know of another four shrines we might be able to get to within a short time frame?"  Annabeth adds, because they'll need to find others eventually.</p><p>"Ah."  Chiron narrows his eyes at Percy.  "I do not know why you bother to ask if you are planning to go behind my back if I say no, so all I will say is that you will be suspended for six months if anyone under the age of sixteen sees you."  He's definitely glaring, but Percy's been immune to Chiron's particular brand of disapproval for years now.  "And to answer your question," here, turns his gaze back to Annabeth, "Besides the shrine here, there is one in the Greek temple of Aphrodite in New Rome, one in a fountain in Piccadilly Circus in London, another ancient one in Athens, and a last one that I believe is in a theme park in Florida."</p><p>
  <em>Why do they all have to be so public?</em>
</p><p>"I would suggest you visit the Hecate cabin and inquire about invisibility spells before you depart.  Try not to get arrested.  The camp budget does not include a line-item for bail money."</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This is short, and just to confirm that yes, Annabeth and Percy are on the case.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sexy Bath-Time, and some words with the god of flattery.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Chapter Tags: References to Somnophilia, Bathing/Washing, Multiple Orgasms, Orgasm on Command.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Jason wakes to the feeling of bright-warm morning sunlight playing over his skin, long, delicate fingers spreading his cheeks apart, and a hot, insistent tongue dipping slowly into his hole.</p><p>He’s turned over on his front sometime in the night, arms hugging a soft and sweet-smelling pillow to his face and chest.  It muffles the moan that sighs between his lips when the talented muscle drags languorously over his slick inner walls, hides his blush at the greedy-hungry sound that rises from between his legs when the tongue’s owner drinks Jason’s slick down like water.  Jason lifts his hips up into the next press of the stranger’s face between the globes of his ass and gets a pleased hum against his sensitive rim in return.</p><p>A shiver runs up Jason’s back.</p><p>“Your taste is as divine as your celestial father, son of Zeus,” a deep voice rumbles from behind him, rough with arousal.  Lips smack wetly against his fluttering rim, wet and loud in the quiet of the calm morning air.  Jason can feel the heat of his blush burning at the tips of his ears at the mention of his dad.  Last night he’d been too turned on to care, but in the bright light of the morning he’s suddenly <em>mortified</em> at the way those words go straight to his dick.</p><p>The voice huffs a laugh against his skin before the tongue makes another pass, drawing another pleasured sound from Jason’s lips.  “Lords Hedylogos and Hermaphroditus sent me to wake you.”  The hands on his ass give the muscle an appreciative squeeze before sliding further up the smooth skin of Jason’s back; the owner of the voice seeming to uncoil like a spring from his position between Jason’s legs.  “And to whet your appetite before breakfast.”</p><p>Jason opens his eyes as long fingers slide around the curve of his jaw to cup his chin, pulling his face around far enough for full lips tasting of Jason’s slick to press against his own.  A long lean body settles down over his back, a mop of curling dark-black hair and warm brown skin all that Jason can see of his bedmate.  Narrow hips press down against him, grinding a thick, hard length between his cheeks and into the pleasure-loose rim of his hole.  </p><p>“My name,” the man purrs in Jason’s ear as another moan drops from Jason’s lips, “Is Andros.  In case you feel the need to sing my praises while I bring you release.”</p><p>Jason moans again, louder this time, as Andros rolls his hips again and slips almost the entire length of his impressively thick cock through Jason’s rim in a single, smooth movement.  It sinks easily through the loose muscle, Jason’s hole practically sucking it deeper.  He’s so <em>open</em> it almost makes his head spin, Andros pulling back until the head of his shaft nearly slips from Jason’s hole before the slow, steady undulation of his hips drives him <em>deep</em> again, riding hard over Jason’s prostate.  </p><p>Andros’ hands leave Jason’s face, following his arms until they find Jason’s own; fine-boned fingers slipping between Jason’s sword-callused ones.  A deep thrust followed by a circular grinding motion from Andros’ hips distracts Jason enough for the man to coax his arms out of their strangle-hold on his pillow.  Jason groans as Andros drags his arms wide, stretching him out on the sheets before sweeping them back down toward their joined hips; a dark chuckle floating through the air at the desperate whine that bursts from the demi-god’s  throat when his hands are guided to grip and spread his own cheeks for the man fucking him.  Andros coos his praise into Jason’s ear.</p><p>“Doesn’t that feel good, Jason?  Holding yourself open for me like that?  Waiting so stoically for your release.  Such a quick learner.”</p><p>Jason’s not sure how long Andros spent winding his body up before he actually woke up, but it must have been a while, because his slow thrusts are already starting to unravel him.  Positioned the way he is, he’s forced to wait for each slow push and pull.  There isn’t really a rhythm to Andros’ motions; the interval between each thrust seems different every time.  Every so often he’ll make little circles with his hips while pressed deep inside, a torturous drag over Jason’s sensitive inner walls that has him gasping.</p><p>“Let it come to <em>you</em>, Jason.”</p><p>
  <em>In.</em>
</p><p>“Feel it washing over you like a wave.”</p><p>
  <em>Out.</em>
</p><p>“You’re so open, so ready.”</p><p>
  <em>In.</em>
</p><p>“You need my knot, don’t you?”</p><p>
  <em>Grind.</em>
</p><p>“Cum, and I’ll give it to you.”</p><p>
  <em>Out</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Andros!”</em>
</p><p>“Good boy.”</p>
<hr/><p>Andros runs cool fingers through the mess of Jason’s hair while he waits for his knot to go down.  It feels good, and Jason almost falls asleep again before the immortal pulls out.  Before he can even make a comment about the mess he’s likely to make the second he sits up, the sun-warm metal of the plug from the night before presses into him, interrupting his words with a long, drawn-out moan.</p><p>“Wouldn’t want to make a mess on the way to the baths now, would we.”  </p><p>Andros’ teasing smirk carries through his voice.  Jason grumbles into his pillow-shield and feels the tips of his ears heating up.</p><p>“I’ll have you nice and cleaned up before breakfast,” Andros promises, sliding off Jason’s back so he can sit up.  Jason finally manages to get a good look at him while the man stretches his arms over his head.</p><p>Dark-coffee skin.  Wavy brown-black hair.  Swimmer’s build and musculature.  Full lips.  Straight, narrow nose.  Bright green eyes-</p><p>Jason’s breath catches.</p><p>
  <em>He could be Percy’s brother.</em>
</p><p>Andros must catch him looking, because his lips curve up in a teasing smile and he <em>winks</em>.  Before Jason has a chance to stick his head back in his pillow and <em>die</em>, Andros’ hand darts out and steals it from him.<em><br/>
</em></p><p>“No more sleep for you.  Lords Hedylogos and Hermaphroditus are waiting.”  Andros drops the pillow over the side of the bed before turning back to Jason, a familiar (infuriating) cocky grin on his face. </p><p>He <em>pounces</em>, slim-strong arms sliding around Jason’s waist and hauling him up and off the bed like he weighs no more than a sack of flour.  The world spins, and Jason has a second to worry about falling before his face smacks into the small of Andros’ back.  The man’s arms wrap firmly around the meat of Jason’s thighs, holding him in place, Jason’s hips slung over his shoulder.  </p><p>
  <em>A fireman’s carry.</em>
</p><p>A cool, fine-boned hand gives his ass a playful <em>smack</em> as Andros turns and starts walking in the direction of the villa.  Jason <em>jerks</em>, heat flooding his face and spreading down his neck and chest at the reminder that he’s not wearing a stitch of clothing.<em><br/>
</em></p><p>He hopes someone’s going to fix that before he has to sit down to breakfast with the gods.</p>
<hr/><p>Jason’s been to Mount Olympus often enough not to be surprised when the door that should open into a regular bathroom in the villa’s front hall actually reveals an expansive and lavish bathing chamber.</p><p>Andros steps into the cool, clear water without hesitation, man-handling Jason off his shoulder and into his lap.  A hand slips between Jason’s thighs and tugs on the base of the plug keeping the mess of slick and seed sealed inside him, pulling it out until his hole is stretched around the widest part; holding it there while Jason squirms in Andros’ lap, unsure whether he wants it in or out.  His cock twitches despite the cool water, quickly filling and hardening while heat blooms once more beneath his navel.  Andros’ other hand quickly takes up the task of stroking it still harder, hooking his chin over Jason’s shoulder so he can see what his hands are doing; the scent of his sweat and alpha musk working to pry rational thought from Jason’s mind with a speed that leaves Jason dizzy.</p><p>“You’re so responsive,” Andros purrs against the delicate skin of Jason’s throat, “I love it.”</p><p>He lets go of the stem of the plug, and Jason can’t help put groan and let his head roll back onto Andros’ shoulder as his hole greedily swallows it back up.  </p><p>“Glad to be of service,” he manages when the feeling of warm weight sliding home inside him subsides enough for his brain to form words again.</p><p>“Excellent.”</p><p>Almost immediately, slim fingers are tugging at the plug again.  This time Andros doesn’t tease him; pulling the toy all the way out and swishing it back and forth in the water to clean it before setting it aside.  The hand on Jason’s cock is almost lost in the sensation of the cool water invading his stretched out hole; even more so when Andros’ hand returns to sink two fingers past Jason’s rim.  </p><p>“Let’s clean this mess up then.”</p>
<hr/><p>Twenty minutes of fingering (and another orgasm) later, Andros deems Jason’s hole clean, and proceeds to haul him from the bath and attack him with the softest, fluffiest towels Jason’s ever experienced.  Then, once he’s dry a warm, musky-smelling bottle of oil makes an appearance; and Jason blushes furiously as the other man rubs it enthusiastically into his skin, making him shine like some sort of gilded statue.  </p><p>Andros steps back to admire his work (or maybe just to fuck Jason again with his eyes), and for a horrible moment Jason wonders if Andros is going to send him off to meet the gods like this; naked and oiled up like a piece of meat.</p><p>Finally, the man turns away and retrieves a bundle of gold-trimmed purple cloth from the same basket the towels had come from.  </p><p>“Something to wear while you meet with Lords Hermaphroditus and Hedylogos,” Andros informs him as he unravels it.</p><p>‘Something to wear’ seems a generous description when Jason sees what the garment looks like unwrapped:  A bolt of Camp Jupiter-purple fabric, edged in what looks like real gold and perhaps eight inches wide at most.</p><p>The lightweight cloth hangs low around his hips when Andros secures it with a laurel-shaped gold clasp.  The hem of it barely comes halfway down Jason’s thighs; and the trailing end that Andros drapes across Jason’s shoulder and winds loosely around his left arm to a golden cuff buckled around his wrist is obviously meant to highlight rather than conceal.  </p><p>“Perfect,” Andros smiles when he steps back to inspect his work; hungry eyes sweeping up and down Jason’s barely-clothed body, lingering on the ‘V’ of his hipbones and the bare expanse of his thighs.  The predatory edge in the alpha’s gaze has Jason squirming, hole clenching tight as his insides heat under the man’s scrutiny.  </p><p>Andros sniffs the air.  Smirks.</p><p>“Lord Pothos has truly outdone himself,” he laughs.  “Easily his best work since Theseus.”  Andros reaches out and grasps Jason’s hand, pulling him toward the door.  “Come.  Much as I wish to push you up against the wall and ruin all my hard work, it would be better not to keep my lords waiting.”</p>
<hr/><p>Breakfast is served outside on the patio by the pool; golden platters of food spread out on a table under a pale green umbrella.  The gods are waiting; tall, dark, androgynous Hermaphroditus leaning back and working his way through a goblet of pitted olives while his brother, broader and shorter Hedylogos, leers at Jason over his plate of sausages. </p><p>Andros pulls out a chair for him, and Jason does his best to recall how Piper moves while wearing particularly short skirts as he takes his seat.  Andros bows to both deities sitting at the breakfast table, then silently retreats in the direction of the villa, leaving Jason alone in the presence of the gods.</p><p>The three of them sit in silence for a short while, Jason frantically trying to decide whether he’s supposed to wait for them to speak first, or open the conversation on his own. </p><p>“So, Jason,” Hermaphroditus offers, finally breaking the silence.  “I’m sure you’re wondering why you’re here.”  The god of hermaphrodites sets his cup of olives down and folds his hands in his lap, regarding Jason with polite interest.</p><p>Honesty is <em>always</em> the best policy when talking with the gods, so Jason shrugs his shoulders and nods.  “Yeah, I was.”</p><p>Hermaphroditus nods back.  “And I am sure you are <em>also</em> wondering why the companions you arrived with are not.”</p><p>“Of course.”  Jason hopes he’s about to get some sort of explanation, but he’s not exactly holding his breath.  The gods are powerful in their individual spheres, but not known for giving clear answers.</p><p>“Naturally.”  Hermaphroditus smiles and waves at the trays of fruit and yoghurt and what looks like kosher sausages.  “Eat; I will attempt to explain.”</p><p>Jason sighs.  “Thank you, Lord Hermaphroditus.”  He selects a ripe looking pear from the platter in the center of the table and inspects it briefly before taking a bite.  The god looks pleased.</p><p>“I will start by stating something which you may already be aware of,” Hermaphroditus begins.  “All desires may become prayers in the right circumstances.”</p><p>Jason <em>does</em>, in fact, know this.</p><p>“Do you know, Jason, which gods hear your desires each time you toss out those condoms filled with your seed?”  The god leans forward slightly in his chair, expression casual but eyes intensely focused.</p><p>Jason thinks for a second.  There is an obvious answer, but Hermaphroditus is asking which <em>gods</em>, not which <em>god</em>.</p><p>“Yourself.  Himeros; and… Pothos?”  The gods of omegas, desire, and longing seem likely candidates.”</p><p>Hermaphroditus nods agreeably.  “Yes; the three of us have heard you.”  He smiles.  “We are not the only ones, however.  Others among the gods deal in mortal desires, including one who looks on your sacrifices and your service and sees that you have gone unrewarded.”</p><p><em>That</em> gets Jason’s attention.  He hasn’t considered the possibility that gods beyond the Erotes might be involved in this quest.  The idea is… not comforting.</p><p>“Who?”</p><p>Hermaphroditus’ smile softens ever so slightly.  “Why, your step-mother, of course.”</p><p>Jason swallows hard, a leaden weight settling in the pit of his stomach. <em> Hera.  Again.</em></p><p>
  <em>Hasn’t she interfered enough with my life?  He wonders.  First my name, and then my mom, my memories.  And now THIS?<br/>
</em>
</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>“Zeus.”  Hedylogos offers with a shrug.  “His insistence that all his sons be alphas goes against the healthy family structure that Hera created for humans.”</p><p>“By her design, a family’s first son should be omega, to temper and nurture his younger siblings.”  Hermaphroditus clarifies.  “It was more important in millennia past, when families were larger and the roles men and women played were more defined.”</p><p>Jason blinks.  This… is somehow <em>still</em> about Zeus making Hera mad by being a serial philanderer.  He’d honestly hoped that Hera agreeing he should be offered godhood when he was a teenager meant that she’d gotten over her annoyance with his existence; that becoming her champion might ensure her <em>indifference</em> if not her favor.</p><p>“She was… most displeased when your fear of her husband’s disfavor kept you from making your… dysphoria known so it could be corrected.”  Hermaphroditus continues.  “The intimidation of her chosen champion may have angered her, but your father’s failure to see and tend to your needs left her <em>incensed</em>.”  The god sighed, reaching for another olive.  “It’s been <em>centuries</em> since anyone’s seen Hera quite that angry.”</p><p>“And then what do <em>you</em> do, but spend the next five years seeking out all the lesser gods to build them shrines!”  Hedylogos interrupts, almost gleefully.  “Oh Hera was practically having <em>fits</em> of delight over you!  Her perfect, thoughtful, brave, attentive omega step-son looking out for his brothers and sisters and cousins and, well, you get the idea…”</p><p>“Except of course, you <em>weren’t</em> actually an omega, and she could tell you were unhappy with that.”  Hermaphroditus shoots a quelling look at the god of flattery, but doesn’t make any attempt to deny his words.  </p><p>“Really?”  Jason doesn’t know how to feel about the fragile edge that creeps into his voice.  The shrines were a project he took on for Kymopoleia because it needed to be done, and it was his duty.  He’d never really expected any of the rulers of Olympus to take notice.  Hadn’t really expected anything for himself other than the satisfaction of a task completed.  Jason’s spent most of his life learning that it’s the only <em>real</em> reward he can expect with any reliability.</p><p>Hermaphroditus gives him a soft smile, Hedylogos’ bright laugh somewhere in the background. </p><p>“Indeed.”  </p><p>Jason sits back, half-eaten pear forgotten in his hand as he tries to process this new truth he’s been given.  One of his hands idly runs up and down the newly-smooth skin of his stomach while he thinks, fingertips brushing the edge of the jewel-bright purple cloth draped around his hips. </p><p>“But I finished that project five years ago.  Why reward me <em>now?”</em> Jason asks, not looking up. At either of the deities seated at the table.</p><p>“Negotiations with your father were…protracted,” the god of omegas admits, “But Hera won in the end, as she always does.”</p><p>“Ganymede damn near dumped his wine in Zeus’ lap a couple of times, too.” Hedylogos sniggers,  “But when he caved, your step-mom came to us to make a deal.”</p><p>“As have other gods in the past,” Hermaphroditus adds.  “Reward a mortal for a service done to the gods in exchange for something of interest to us.  Hera’s offer was… something we have wanted for a long time; but we would have accepted much less for a week’s time with <em>yourself</em> Jason Grace.”</p><p>Jason blinks, then <em>jumps</em> as Hedylogos’ hand appears from nowhere to slide over the curve of Jason’s thigh.  “Handsome guy like you?  She didn’t even need to <em>ask</em>.”</p><p>Hermaphroditus snorts, amused.  “Perhaps not, but she did.  Make an alpha into an omega and entertain him for a week with all the pleasures at our disposal.”</p><p>Jason swallows.  The prospect of a week’s dedicated attention from the gods of sex and lust is intimidating and alluring in equal measures.  Heat prickles between his hips, and he can feel an answering warmth spreading across his cheekbones as his hole starts to moisten.  Hedylogos’ wandering hands aren’t helping matters.</p><p>“Eros was all for putting you to sleep for the change and then sending you a weeks worth of sex dreams about potential mates; but Pothos came up with something much more… compelling,” Hedylogos murmurs in Jason’s ear.  “A way to make the acceptance of your omega-hood feel more… <em>real</em>.”</p><p>“Um?”  This conversation is getting away from Jason <em>fast</em>; Hedylogos’ hand brushing up against the hem of the thin cloth covering him as the god’s words seem to go straight to where heat pools between his legs.  </p><p>“A challenge of sorts; something to give your friends’ quest that titillating feeling of urgency,” Hermaphroditus offers, “Each time you find release, the gifts bestowed upon you during your visit here will persist for another year of your life.  So, potentially, you can remain an omega for life, or just for a decade or so.”</p><p>“The choice to surrender yourself to your truth is yours, Jason,” Hedylogos continues, lips brushing against the curve of Jason’s ear.  The hand on his thigh slips higher, and Jason finds himself spreading his legs wider without conscious thought.  Slick pools behind the muscle of his rim, slowly escaping him drop by drop to run down his bare skin into the seat of the chair. </p><p>“And if your life should reach its natural end before the count of years is exhausted, you and your mates shall earn yourselves places at our table for all time.”  Hermaphroditus smiles as Jason’s attention snaps back to him at his words.</p><p>“W-What?”</p><p>The god’s smile widens.  “Hera’s stipulation.  She has waited <em>millennia</em> for Zeus to give her an omega son.  Do you think she would let the opportunity pass her by?”</p><p>“I’m not her <em>plaything!</em>”  Jason forgets about Hedylogos’ teasing hand, a flare of hopeless <em>anger</em> rising in his gut at Hermaphroditus’ revelation.  He’d explicitly turned the gods’ offer <em>down</em> a little over ten years ago.  Immortality isn’t something he wants.  Elysium is <em>enough</em> for him, even if he knows his mother won’t be there.  </p><p>“You would not be <em>hers</em>, Jason,” Hermaphroditus reaches across the table to poke a finger into the middle of Jason’s forehead.  “<em>Think</em>.  We are lesser gods among those of Olympus, and still Hera must ask for our help.  She may be queen of the gods, but she does not have the same power over us as she does mortals.  And in any case, what if she were to make a deal with her brother to pass your soul into her care instead of Elysium?  You <em>would</em> be a plaything then.”</p><p>The god sighs and settles back into his chair once more.  “Live your life as you are meant to, and you will be <em>ours</em> not Hera’s.  You and all those you bind to you with blood and heart will pass into the halls of Olympus with you.”</p><p>“And you’ll finally get a chance to punch my brother in the face for that time in Croatia without having to worry about the consequences.”  Hedylogos adds.  Jason honestly thinks that’s the most convincing argument he’s been offered so far.</p><p>If he’s honest with himself, it sounds better than many of the alternatives.  Hera plucking him from Elysium has featured in more than one of Jason’s nightmares; and he’s under no impression that he’s done nearly enough for Hades specifically for the king of the underworld to hold on to him.  </p><p>“Think about it, Jason,” Hedylogos leans in close again, hands resuming their wandering, “You could get plowed by that daughter of Athena every day for the rest of eternity, let that son of Poseidon grind your face into his crotch every time he gets back from running on the beach.”  Fingers trail up the inside of Jason’s thigh until their tips dip into the trail of slick running from his hole.  “Imagine that son of Mars throwing you over his shoulder after a day in the sparing ring and <em>ruining</em> your hole over and over again while the daughter of Pluto rides your face; that daughter of Bellona pushing you down on your knees and crushing your head between her thighs.”</p><p>Each of Hedylogos’ words is like a chisel taken to the stone of Jason’s anger.  Each fantastically lewd image he paints in Jason’s mind making his grip on it weaken.  The god’s fingers have found his hole now, teasing against still-loose muscle until the trickle of his slick increases and he’s panting quietly.  </p><p>“Think of the toys your little son of Hephaestus could invent to fill you, the ropes of shadows the son of Hades could call to bind you; his healer, the son of Apollo burying his hot tongue deep inside you while you pull and tug against their hold.”</p><p>A single finger slides past his rim.  Jason gasps and drops his pear.  It vanishes before it has a chance to hit the patio.</p><p>“Imagine of our half-sister whispering in your ear with the voice of our mother, commanding you to climax untouched and unprepared; your cock shooting and hole dripping out of your control.”</p><p>Jason bites his lip to stifle the moan that rises in his throat when Hedylogos’ slim finger circles his prostate.  He doesn’t know if it’s something in the food or the water or the scent of the garden drifting through the air; but his resolve is rapidly crumbling, concerns drifting away like morning mist in a light breeze.  A second finger presses against his rim, making Jason squirm in his chair as he’s stretched.</p><p>“Doesn’t that sound <em>good</em>, Jason?”  The second finger sinks in to him just easily as the first, making a soft, wet, <em>filthy</em> sound barely audible over the repetitive rushing of the sea and the rustling of the leaves on the trees in the wind.  This time, Jason’s moan escapes unhindered.  It <em>does</em> sound good.  Not the charmspeak kind of good, abstract and foggy over his thoughts; the real kind of good that’s sharp and hot and solid.  He nods.</p><p>“Then why don’t you let go, Jason?”  Hedylogos urges, twisting his fingers deeper into Jason’s increasingly wet hole, fingertips dragging torturously across his prostate before they pull out entirely.  </p><p>Circle his hole teasingly.  Once.  Twice.</p><p>Press back in.  </p><p>Drag.  </p><p>Out  </p><p>“Let us make you feel good Jason.”</p><p>Circle.</p><p>In.</p><p>“You can stay the way you’ve always wanted to be.”</p><p>Drag.</p><p>Out.</p><p>“You’ve barely been here half a day, but you’ve already earned yourself more than a decade.  Imagine how many years you’ll have when we’re through with you.”</p><p>Circle.</p><p>“Think about it Jason; a lifetime to gather the ones you love around you.”</p><p>In.</p><p>“Let them claim you the way you’ve always wanted”</p><p>Drag.</p><p>“And afterwards the rest of time together on Mount Olympus.”</p><p>Out.</p><p>“And all you have to do-“</p><p>Circle.</p><p>“-Is cum.”</p><p>In; with three fingers this time.  Jason’s breath catches and his hips twitch into the god’s hand; Hedylogos’ words filling his head, the wet spot on the seat of his chair spreading, damp purple cloth sticking to the smooth skin of his ass and thighs.</p><p>“Cum as often as you need to.”</p><p>Drag; longer and harder.  Jason’t cock is barely chubbed, but he feels orgasm fluttering under his skin anyway.  His skin feels tight and hot all over, a heavy pink flush blooming over his face and spreading down his neck as the drawn-out friction drives a trembling moan from his lips.  </p><p>“Fill your hole when it feels empty.”</p><p>Out.  Jason can’t stop himself from chasing Hedylogos’ fingers with his body, slouching down in his chair, the cloth around his hips riding up until it conceals nothing.  His mind slips deeper into itself; the emptiness inside him and the memory of the stretch swallowing up his other thoughts.</p><p>“Let the servants take care of you.”</p><p>Circle again and again; Jason’s eyes fixed on the flex of muscle beneath the mocha-bronze skin of the god’s wrist as his fingers rub Jason’s slick around his rim.</p><p>“Let your needs consume you.”</p><p>In.  Jason sighs in contentment as he’s stretched again, the feeling of something inside him so fundamentally <em>right</em> he feels tears prickle at the corner of his eyes.   His jaw goes slack and a low, throaty noise forces its way out of him.</p><p>“Cum.”</p><p>Dragging fingers press up into his prostate, the movement of Hedylogos’ hand between Jason’s thighs making a loud <em>schlick</em> as it displaces slick from his hole.  Tremors run under his skin and his breath catches in his throat as his walls clench down on the god’s fingers repeatedly, slick flowing freely around them as Jason’s soft cock drips his seed sluggishly into his foreskin.</p><p>This time, Hedylogos leaves his fingers inside, letting Jason’a insides milk them while he comes down from his orgasm’s high.  The stretch keeps his mind submerged under the surface of the fog of arousal clouding his thoughts, despite the faint spark that flares in his left wrist.  </p><p>“Does it turn you on to know that I could bring you to climax again with a single thought?”  Hedylogos whispers in his ear.  Already, his fingers are resuming their rotating massage of his prostate; pleasure latching on to the eddies of his previous orgasm and spiraling out through Jason’s body.  “To know that, if I wished, you would cum over and over again without pause until I decided otherwise?”</p><p>Jason moans and nods frantically as his prostate is massaged into submission.</p><p>“Would you like a demonstration?”</p><p>“<em>Please!”</em> Jason gasps for breath at the yawning desire opening up in his stomach.  </p><p>Hedylogos’ fingers twitch ever so slightly, and Jason cries out as another orgasm shudders out of him, slick pouring over the god’s fingers.  Sparks crackle behind Jason’s teeth as his chest heaves with each breath; oil-slick golden skin forming a smooth, undulating path down to where his eyes are fixed on Hedylogos’ hand between his legs.</p><p>A second twitch of Hedylogos’ hand, and he’s curling forward around his middle, abdominals cramping with the force of another climax.  A third has him resting his forehead on thee cool glass surface of the table and sobbing as his hips jerk into the god’s touch.  A fourth.  A fifth.  Drool puddles under Jason’s slack jaw and his eyes roll back in his head as he <em>screams</em> through the fog of pain-pleasure.  A sixth has him choking on his own breaths.  A seventh makes him jolt so hard it upsets the plates on the table.  </p><p>Eight.  Nine.  Blackness is creeping around the edges of his vision and his throat hurts from the volume of the noise he’s been making and it feels like every muscle in his body is taught as a bowstring except for his hole, which practically gapes around Hedylogos’ fingers.  He dimly registers the god’s pinky finger slipping inside of him along with the others.  They curve up, up, <em>up-</em></p><p>Brush against his searing prostate.</p><p>
  <em>Twitch.</em>
</p><p>Ten.</p><p>He sighs and slumps, unconscious, onto the table.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>YO, this is like, all the situational causality that I've come up with packed into one chapter.  Ultimately this fic is about Jason getting destroyed (in a good way) by the gods of sex, but the idea of Hera wanting to repay her step-son for his work wouldn't get out of my head, so here it is getting him fucked unconscious.  </p><p>And if it isn't clear, the reason Jason can't hold on to his anger at her for interfering with his life again is his location.  Because why would you be able to be mad at things in a non-sexy way in the house of the Erotes?  With their garden full of pheromone-producing flowers and aphrodisiac-laden fruits?  </p><p>There's a reason why this fic is dub-con, and it's that, while Jason ultimately has some ability to say no; the very nature of his location actively bends his thoughts away from that option.  And, you know, the whole kidnapped thing.  It's entirely likely that this fic will end with the phrase "I think I'm going to need a lot of therapy after this."</p><p>BTW, for those who're interested; here's what I imagine the various characters would be minor deities of.  Most of them are pretty weird and/or subject to change:</p><p>Jason: God of Dysphoria (like, you pray to him if you have it and he would make it better)<br/>Percy: God of Versatility<br/>Annabeth: Goddess of Sapiosexuals (Or maybe the goddess of Morosexuals, since, you know, Percy).<br/>Nico: God of Short Skinny Guys Who Fuck Like They're Eight-Foot-Tall Bodybuilders<br/>Will: God of Giant Muscular Dudes Everyone Assumes Are Tops But Are Actually Pillow-Biters<br/>Reyna: Goddess of Dominant Women <br/>Leo: God of Experimental Sex Toys<br/>Piper: Goddess of Sexual Experimentation<br/>Hazel: Goddess of Betas Who Love Alphas Despite Their BS<br/>Frank: God of Service Tops</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The sun is just peaking over the horizon when Percy and Annabeth stumble out of Camp Half-Blood’s temple of Aphrodite.  Percy’s hips are <em>sore</em>, and he thinks his back is going to be one massive bruise from the marble top of Anteros’ altar.<br/></p><p>The good news is Anteros sent them an IM to let them know he’s satisfied with their first offering.<br/></p><p>The bad news is it took them nearly four hours to do it.  Thank Hephaestus for the persistence of strap-ons.<br/></p><p>
  <em>If we ever get Jason back I’m making him replace that damn block of stone with an actual bed.</em>
  <br/>
</p><p>It’s barely five in the morning, and breakfast isn’t for another four hours; so the two of them stumble in the direction of cabin three for some much-needed sleep.<br/></p><p>Percy’s intensely grateful to Annabeth for insisting that they spend at least one weekend a month at camp, because the bed actually smells like the two of them when he collapses face-first into the sheets without even bothering to remove his clothes first.  <br/></p><hr/><p>They both wake up sometime after eight to the electric feeling of a new mark appearing on their wrists.<br/></p><p>Annabeth must have woman-handled out of his sweaty clothes from last night at some point while Percy was asleep, because he can feel the hot line of her skin against his back all the way from the nape of his neck to his shins.  Trust his Wise Girl to remember that skin-to-skin contact is one of the best ways to help him relax, even when they’re both fucked-out and exhausted.  Even with only three hours of sleep, Percy already feels <em>loads</em> better than he did when they stumbled into his cabin earlier.<br/></p><p>He idly inspects the band of marks around his wrist.  With the addition of the newest one, they encircle half of its circumference; twelve in total.  Percy’s pretty sure a few new ones turned up overnight, but he wasn’t exactly paying attention to anything besides getting eaten out and fucked until he <em>cried</em>.<br/></p><p>He wonders how much sleep <em>Jason</em> got last night.  Probably more than Percy, despite the orgasms.  Even Annabeth managed to catch a few hours of rest between their arrival at camp and the start of the Anteros Sex Marathon.<br/></p><p>“Shower together before breakfast?”  She asks; voice sleepy and small in his ear.<br/></p><p>“Sure.”  His voice isn’t much better, still raw from the noises his (beautiful, talented, strong) alpha dragged out of him a few hours ago.  He goes to sit up, but hisses at the flare of aching soreness that erupts from his hips. </p><p>
  <em>Next time I’m bringing a cushion!</em>
  <br/>
</p><p>Annabeth huffs a breath of laughter into his sleep-and-sex mussed hair before sitting up beside him.  “I think there’s still some ambrosia in the medicine cabinet.  I’ll be right back.”<br/></p><p>Percy groans his assent, rolling over to press his face into her pillow the moment she gets up despite the complaints of his body.  He breathes deep and sighs, his body relaxing automatically under the influence of her pheromones, his nose finding its way to the place where the soft cloth of the pillowcase has spent the last couple of hours rubbing against the scent gland under Annabeth’s jaw.  <br/></p><p>She laughs at him again a short while later as he whines and grumbles at her for making him sit up to eat his ambrosia.  It tastes like the udon noodles she always brings him when he’s in heat; and within moments he can feel the stiffness fading from his lower half.<br/></p><p>The shower helps even more, Annabeth gently scrubbing the slick and sweat from his skin; and rubbing the large ever-lasting sea-salt crystal (a birthday gift from Poseidon) over his back.  <br/></p><p>By the time they’re finished it’s nearly nine, another mark has appeared on both their wrists, and he’s <em>hungry</em>.  The dining hall is mostly empty this early, especially during the summer, when most of the younger campers are up until at least eleven most nights.  A few of the Apollo campers are awake and chatting around their table, and Nico, long used to the Child of Apollo sleep-cycle from years sharing a bed with Will, is sipping at a cup of coffee at the Hades table.<br/></p><p>They get their food and make their way past the Hestia’s sacrificial hearth (a forkful of eggs from Percy and a slice of toast from Annabeth dropping onto the coals) before they move to join their friend.  Nico looks up at them as they approach and smiles sleepily at them over the rim of his mug.<br/></p><p>“Heard from Austin that you guys were here.  How’s life?”<br/></p><p>Percy makes a face at him.  “Complicated.  How’s death?”</p><p>That gets him a laugh, even if it’s just a little one.  Nico rarely gets mentioned by the oracle because his dad tends to just visit him directly whenever he needs something done.  Percy’s not sure how Nico feels about the whole arrangement, but having your tasks stated bluntly directly instead of in frustratingly vague haiku sounds <em>awesome</em>.<br/></p><p>“Planning a new space in the Fields of Punishment for the guy who came up with those cube-shaped watermelons.  Demeter sent him a bunch of them for his and Persephone’s anniversary last week.”  Nico rolls his eyes and takes another sip of his coffee.  “You know, the usual.”<br/></p><p>Percy laughs.  “He slept with Persephone, didn’t he?”</p><p><em>“Si.”</em>  Nico sets his mug down.  “He’s been throwing a tantrum about it for months now.  I can’t wait until the kid’s born and dad’s her problem again.”<br/></p><p>“Well,”  Annabeth waves a fork full of waffle at him.  “If you want an excuse to take a few days off from Hades’ relationship drama, you could help us out a bit.  Apparently we’re going to have to jump between New Rome, London, Athens, and Orlando before we’re done with the gods’ latest shenanigans.”<br/></p><p>Percy doesn’t want to contemplate how many marks he’ll have on his wrist if they have to take the Argo II back and forth across the Atlantic.  And sailing around the Mediterranean to get to Athens could take <em>weeks</em> with all the monsters hanging around that part of the world.<br/></p><p>It’s like just <em>thinking</em> about Jason sets it off.  Percy winces as a sharp snap of electricity jolts up his left arm.  Beside him, Annabeth hisses through her teeth.  <br/></p><p><em>The fuck are they doing with him?</em>  He wonders, holding up his wrist to inspect the damage-<br/></p><p>-and gapes in disbelief as mark after mark appears on his skin, eight, nine, ten, <em>eleven</em>.  There’s a complete ring around his wrist now.  Percy swallows heavily, trying not to think about what could possibly make sex-doesn’t-really-do-much-for-me Jason Grace cum that many times in quick succession.  The slick feeling in his underwear tells him how well <em>that</em> goes.<br/></p><p>“What are those?”  Nico’s words snap Percy’s attention back across the picnic table to their friend.  The son of Hades is eyeing the band of dots around Percy’s wrist distrustfully.<br/></p><p>“Progress markers for our quest,”  Annabeth answers smoothly.  “We’re supposed to finish it before we get too many, otherwise… well nothing <em>bad</em> happens exactly, but there might be long-lasting after-effects.”<br/></p><p>Nico’s eyes narrow at the both of them.  Percy has to fight not to squirm in his seat, but Annabeth seems rock-solid beside him.<br/></p><p>“Wasn’t Jason supposed to be on this quest with you?  Where’s he?”<br/></p><p>
  <em>Busted!</em>
  <br/>
</p><p>“Safe.”  Annabeth quickly moves to reassure Nico, reaching across the table to rest a probably-supposed-to-be-comforting hand over Nico’s suddenly-clenched fist.  “He’s fine, Nico, I promise.”<br/></p><p>“That’s nice, Annabeth,” Nico practically growls, “But you didn’t answer my question.  <em>Where is he?”</em><br/></p><p><em>How do you explain to a guy that you let his sort-of big brother get kidnapped by the sex gods?</em>  Percy wonders.  Nico’s been nursing some sort of grudge against Eros for nearly as long as Percy’s known the guy.  Annabeth thinks Jason knows why, but neither of them have been able to get the reason out of him (the most they’ve gotten is an emphatic declaration that it’s not their business).<br/></p><p>Percy hopes Annabeth has a plan for breaking the news gently, because he can’t see Nico taking it well no matter how they give it.<br/></p><p>“Olympus.”<br/></p><p>
  <em>Technically true, I guess.</em>
  <br/>
</p><p>“The gods wanted to show their appreciation for all the work he did on the shrines and cabins for the minor gods.”  Annabeth’s hands and the morning sunlight filling the pavilion are probably the only things that keep Nico from shadow-traveling to the Empire State Building on the spot.  “They’ll send him back once we finish the task they gave us.”<br/></p><p>“And the weird tattoos?”<br/></p><p>“Each one is another year that their gifts will persist after we get him back.”  Annabeth squeezes Nico’s hand.  “And before you ask; no we don’t know what kind of gifts he’s getting.  That’s why we need your help getting around.  So we can complete the quest faster.”</p><p>Nico glares at them for a hot second.  Percy swallows hard at the aura of death-and-darkness emanating from the guy.  He’s <em>pissed</em>.</p><p>“Is Eros one of the gods showing his <em>appreciation?”</em>  Nico finally asks, eyes finally resting on Percy.  <em>Fuck</em>.<br/></p><p>“Yeah.” </p><p>Nico’s shoulders stiffen.</p><p>“Go get your stuff.”  He growls at them, standing abruptly and turning toward the wash-up station.  “Be at my cabin in ten minutes.”<br/></p><hr/><p>“Was that really necessary?”  Hermaphroditus sighs as their demigod guest collapses onto the table.  Hedylogos sits back, licking his fingers and looking exceedingly pleased with himself as he does so. <br/></p><p>“You heard him,” his brother answers, waving his concerns away like so much incense-smoke.  “He <em>asked</em> for it.”<br/></p><p>Hermaphroditus rolls his eyes.  His brother is technically correct, Jason <em>had</em> asked for it; but somehow the god of hermaphrodites doesn’t think <em>orgasming into unconsciousness</em> was what Jason had had in mind.</p><p>
  <em>Not that it wasn’t exquisitely arousing to watch.</em>
</p><p>“Andros.” </p><p>The dark-skinned young man appears at Hermaphroditus’ side.  “My lord?”</p><p>“My brother’s attentions have proved to be too much for our guest,”  The god waves a hand in Jason’s direction.  “You are to tend to his needs for the rest of the day.  See to it that he eats and drinks when he awakes; and that his desires are sated.  Pothos suggests that he might enjoy sparring or wrestling once he is properly recovered.”<br/></p><p>Andros bows, his excitement with his assigned task clear to see in his bright green eyes.  “I will see to it, my lord.”</p><p>“Good.”  <br/></p><p>Both gods watch while the young man hauls Jason’s limp body into his arms, lean muscle flexing under perfect coffee-brown skin.  <em>Truly</em>, Hermaphroditus muses, <em>Poseidon’s sons are exceptionally well made.  </em></p><hr/><p>The rest of Jason’s first full day as a guest of the Erotes is thankfully much less exciting than the first twelve hours have been.<br/></p><p>When he regains consciousness, hours later and feeling like he’s been bit by a Cessna (an experience he’s proud to say he’s only had once), he’s laid out on a divan in a shadier corner of the gardens while Andros, the Percy look-alike the gods sent to wake him that morning, combs fingers through his hair.<br/></p><p>The arousal that seems a permanent feature of the very air of the Erotes’ palace still hums beneath his bare skin; but for now it’s easy to relax into, to exist alongside it without drowning in it.  Perhaps that’s because of the aforementioned clobbered-by-a-light-aircraft feeling.  He hadn’t been particularly eager to fool around right after that either.<br/></p><p>“Everything hurts.”<br/></p><p>His voice is rough, probably from all the screaming he vaguely remembers doing under Hedylogos’ godly influence.</p><p>“Pro tip,” Andros chuckles, “As tempting as the prospect may be, it is generally a bad idea to allow the gods to fulfill fantasies that go beyond the bounds of usual human ability.”  The man’s hand enters Jason’s field of view holding an open bottle of water with a bendy straw so Jason doesn’t have sit up to drink it.  “They know when to stop in the moment, but aside from Pothos and Himeros, most don’t bother worrying about how you’ll feel later.  Better to pray to Hypnos if you ever want to explore those.”</p><p>Jason shifts slightly and winces.  “I’ll remember that.”<br/></p><p>Andros laughs again.  “I’ve got some ambrosia here, in case you feel like doing anything else today.”  <br/></p><p>“Sure.”  Jason’s not so sure he <em>feels</em> like doing anything else, but he’s smart enough to know that he’s <em>going</em> to.  And, his stomach loudly reminds him, it’s not like he’s had much to eat at all since he got here.<br/></p><p>“I’ve got peeled grapes and some goat’s cheese and bread too,” Andros offers, long fingers pressing the golden-yellow square to Jason’s lips until he takes it.  The taste of Sally Jackson’s blue chocolate chip cookies fills his mouth and Jason hums with relief as the stretched-out tenderized sensation recedes from his sore body.  </p><p>Andros serves him his lunch much the same way, pressing each individual morsel to Jason’s lips with gentle hands and murmured approval.  It’s more intimate than Jason’s been with anyone since Piper (and even then, they didn’t get to this level of comfortable familiarity until they’d been together a few years), but right now it’s satisfying some deep, new facet of himself to be treated with such care.<br/></p><p>The immortal tells Jason stories from his life while they eat; Andros recounting his time with his much younger half-brother Theseus during the unification of Attica and the founding of Athens.  Of the forming of the cult of Aphrodite Pandemos and Himeros’ offer of immortality for his services to the god’s mother.  It’s honestly a lot more interesting hearing the tale from Andros than from Plutarch’s <em>Life of Theseus</em>.  Even if Andros’ descriptions of the Greek hero are more than a little sexually charged.  Apparently Andros doesn’t share the aversion most modern demigods feel toward the idea of sleeping with their half-siblings.<br/></p><p>By the time Andros is done telling his story Jason’s finished eating.  He’s a little surprised when Andros suggests they go for a walk.  Mostly because he’d fully expected the other demigod to make a move as soon as the opportunity presented itself; but also because he didn’t think the grounds of the Erotes palace were large enough for anything other than a few minutes’ diversion.<br/></p><p>Andros just laughs at him when he voices his confusion and gets up to tug Jason to his feet.<br/></p><p>“My lords’ realm is larger than it appears,” he offers as he picks up the empty platter their lunch had arrived on and vanishes it into thin air with a wave of his hand.  “And you should relax and enjoy the opportunity to stretch your legs.  My lords Pothos and Eros have you booked all of tomorrow starting at midnight, so I wouldn’t count on being allowed out of bed for a stroll if I were you.”<br/></p><p>Jason flushes and bites his lip to keep from whimpering.  His previous encounter with Pothos had been <em>intense</em>, even though it couldn’t have lasted more than forty-five minutes (he thinks).  The prospect of an entire <em>day’s</em> worth of the god’s attention is both terrifying and exciting at the same time.  Andros just turns his head to smirk at him like he can tell exactly what Jason’s thinking.</p><p>A walk suddenly sounds like a great idea.</p><p>For starters, Jason, discovers, it means he gets to wear clothing again; even if clothing in this case means a yard-long seamless tube of cream linen, a large metal clasp, and a golden cord.  Andros has to help him put it on, sliding the tube over his head pinching the upper end of the garment closed with the clasp over Jason’s right shoulder so that the hem comes about halfway down Jason’s thighs.  The cord goes around Jason’s waist,  securing the cloth around his hips.<br/></p><p>“There’s just something about a demigod in a chiton…” Andros muses as he steps back to slip a similar garment over his own head, hungry eyes sweeping up and down Jason’s body.  “Some things never change.”<br/></p><p>They end up going to the beach, the town that surrounded the villa when Jason arrived mysteriously absent as Andros pulls him down a wide sandy path between overgrown trees and sweet-smelling understory flowers.  Jason’s not exactly <em>surprised</em>, but it is a little disconcerting to realize how emphatically not-in-the-mortal-world he is.<br/></p><p>The beach itself, like the rest of the island, is deserted.  No boats or ships are visible on the water either.  The sand is smooth and undisturbed under Jason’s bare feet.  Andros skips ahead to wet his feet in the surf, laugh and dark skin and wild curls so much like Percy in the moment that Jason nearly forgets where he is for a moment.</p><p>They walk along the beach for maybe an hour in comfortable silence before the low buzz of background arousal, the feeling of Jason’s now-smooth and slightly sticky thighs sliding past each other, and Andros’ steadily-increasing cloud of alpha pheromones drive him to make a move of his own.<br/></p><p>He starts by just walking closer, until his and Andros’ shoulders brush against each other with each step.  This close, the smell of the alpha’s clean sweat coupled with his pheromones have fresh slick flowing between Jason’s cheeks.  Andros shoots him a knowing look, a tiny smirk curling the corners of his mouth as he takes a deep breath, openly appreciative of Jason’s own scent.  <br/></p><p>
  <em>Score.</em>
  <br/>
</p><p>Jason smirks back and bumps their shoulders together with a little more force this time, leaning his weight behind the motion so that Andros is forced to either bring his own weight to bear against Jason’s or step aside.</p><p>Their bout of playful shoving becomes grappling, and then devolves into wrestling.  Jason’s stronger and taller, but Andros obviously has prior experience with <em>actual</em> wrestling.  Jason realizes almost immediately that if Andros really wants to win there’s nothing Jason would be able to do to stop him.  Andros could shove his fingers in Jason’s slick hole or press Jason’s face into his scent glands or even just outright pin him down; but chooses to hold back enough for it to be a fair fight instead.  Jason appreciates it, enjoys the opportunity to test himself without it being a matter of life and death or even camp pride; but he didn’t actually start this match with any intention of winning.<br/></p><p>So the next time he finds himself face-to-face with his opponent he leans down and presses their lips together.</p><p>It’s like flipping a switch.  Before Jason has more than a second or two to contemplate the taste of Andros’ skin he finds himself being flipped over onto his back, pinned to the sand, and moaning as Andros tongue explores his mouth.  One of Andros’ legs hooks around his thigh, spreading his legs open so that the sea breeze blows cool over where the trickle of his slick runs down into the sand; his hole and his cock exposed as his chiton rides up around his waist.<br/></p><p>“Fuck me,” Jason pants into Andros’ mouth between kisses.<br/></p><p>Barely a minute later he’s face down and groaning into a pile of both his and Andros’ tunics as the alpha’s cock spreads him open for the third time that day.<br/></p><hr/><p>“I think our break’s up,” Percy collapses into the chair opposite Nico, tossing the bag containing the (blueberry) scones he’d gone to get onto the table.  He holds his wrist up for Nico to see, and sure enough, there’s another mark.<br/></p><p>Nico glares at it.  It’s been hours since the last batch of them appeared, and in that time the three of them have manages to get some invisibility draughts and monster-repelling charms from the Hecate cabin and shadow-travel to New Rome.  Now he and Percy are waiting for Annabeth to catch Reyna up on what’s happening and negotiate the closure of the temple of the Erotes for the night.<br/></p><p>(As much as he wants to get all this over with and get Jason back from Eros’ lecherous hands, Nico is well aware that they need to save their supplies for the shrines in more public and monster-inhabited places.  That doesn’t mean he has to like it).<br/></p><hr/><p>Jason lets out a pleased sigh as Andros pushes him down onto the sand, the alpha’s knot tied behind his rim as the two of them sprawl out in the afterglow.  He feels floaty and satisfied; the playful ocean winds tugging at the curling ends of his hair and brushing along his heated skin.  Andros’ cock pulses within him and he moans as another wave of wet heat flows into him.  The mess of Jason’s own orgasm sinks into the hot sand beneath him and drips slowly down his perineum from his stretched hole.  <br/></p><p>“Enjoy yourself?”  Andros murmurs in his ear, his arms sliding around Jason’s torso and pressing them closer together while he continues to rock his hips slowly.<br/></p><p>Jason has, as a matter of fact.  Unlike every other orgasm he’s had since he arrived, the one he’s just had is one he got to choose.  One he instigated.  <br/></p><p>He wonders if this is what being high feels like.</p><p>The inside of his head is all fluff and sparking lights and the sound of the ocean somewhere behind them and the feeling of hot-dry sand against his skin and the comfortable weight on his back.  <br/></p><p>For years he’s had dreams about what it would be like to be with someone the way he’s always wanted to; and it turns out reality is a thousand times better then his imagination could fathom.<br/></p><p>“Yeah.”  His voice is nearly a whisper, his face still pressed to the bundle of their tunics, breathing in the ozone-hot-fresh-spicy-musk of their combined scents.  He thinks he finally gets why Percy’s always totally useless for the rest of the day whenever Annabeth has time in her schedule for morning sex.  He feels like all his bones have turned to goo and he’s just a puddle of satiated demigod lying in the sand. <br/></p><p>Jason drifts on sensation for a while.  Enjoys the thickness and the pulse of Andros’ cock against his inner walls; the way the cool wind off the water plays a delightful counterpoint to the steady heat of the early afternoon sun.  Lets his eyelids slip closed and moans appreciatively when Andros tugs his knot against the resistance of Jason’s rim just to tease.<br/></p><p>He slips into a lazy doze, only waking when he feels Andros’ softening dick slipping out of him. Turns his head so he can smile at the other man when he flops down in the sand next to him; arching his back and stretching his legs out just to watch the alpha track the motion of his body.<br/></p><p>He yelps, and then laughs when the immortal smacks him on the ass for being a tease.  Moans when the same hand slips between his legs and two slim fingers breach his rim; face flushing scarlet as Andros smirks and spreads them until he can feel the other’s seed leaking out of him.<br/></p><p>He ends up having to make the walk back to the villa with trails of his own slick and Andros’ cum running down his thighs under his tunic.<br/></p><hr/><p>Nico sits against the great bronze doors of the shrine to the Cupidion on temple hill and tries to ignore the sex noises.  Reyna sits a few steps down from him, brow furrowed in annoyance as she attempts to read what looks like a stack of reports.<br/></p><p>There are lots of reasons that Nico’s intensely grateful that both himself and Will are betas.  Not needing an hour and change to get off properly is right up there with low performative standards and the lack of a heat or rut to deal with.<br/></p><p>There’s a brief pause in the sounds emanating from behind the closed doors.  Both of them look up after a few seconds of quiet; wondering if it’s safe to check inside.<br/></p><p>“Thirty!”  Percy’s voice calls out from inside; and the both of them groan in frustration.<br/></p><p>“At least it’s slowing down some,” Reyna grumbles, flipping to the next page of her pile of paper.<br/></p><p>“For now.”</p><p>The noises from inside resume.  <br/></p><p>“Jackson better not be expecting me to clean up whatever mess he leaves in there,” Reyna growls, circling something with worrying ferocity.  Nico assumes she can smell him, even through the door.  Yet another perk of being a beta: Not being able to smell your friends having sex with fifty feet and several closed doors between you.<br/></p><p>“I doubt he’s thought that far ahead,” Nico sighs, “but Annabeth wouldn’t do that to you.”<br/></p><p>“True.”  Reyna continues to scowl down at her reports.  “What did we ever see in him?”<br/></p><p>Nico snorts.  “Don’t look at me.  I was young and impressionable.”  He rolls his eyes.  “<em>You</em> told Dakota that you wanted to sit on his face to keep the idiocy that comes out of his mouth from infecting other people.”<br/></p><p>“Shut up, Di Angelo.”</p><p>It’s nearly nine o’clock by the time the noises from inside the temple die down completely.  Reyna’s given up on her reports and is reading a book while Nico watches some skeletal mice he’s summoned chase each other around in the grass.  It’s pretty obvious from the voices coming through the doors that Annabeth and Percy are done, but neither of them feel particularly inclined to check on their friends.<br/></p><p>Nico’s watch is just beeping the turn of the hour when he feels a sharp electric tingling around his left wrist.  Down the stairs, Reyna hisses between her teeth and drops her book.  He shoves the sleeve of his jacket up to his elbow and watches as a ring of little marks appears on the skin around his wrist.</p><p>“Thirty-one!”  Percy’s voice calls out from inside.</p><p>“Jackson!”  Reyna storms up to the temple doors and throws them open with a bang.  “The <em>fuck</em> have you gotten me into this time?”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I want to reiterat, iin case it's not clear, that Jason's operating in an altered mental state while he's in the Erotes' domain.  If he seems out-of-charcter, then good.  I've done my job properly.</p>
<p>So, the next chapter took me forever, and I kept having to tweak things in this one to make it work the way I wanted it to.  Which is why it took so long for me to post this one.  Fair warning that the next chapter contains an extended (sort of) dream sequence in which Jason has sex with... basically everyone?  Some of it incredibly kinky?  And those other people are frequently OOC because they're all in Jason's head and not really doing those things with him?  IDK how to feel about all of those encounters, especially the one involving aged-up Hazel which is somehow both wholesome and debaucherous at the same time?</p>
<p>In any case, it took forever, and I think it's finally finished, so it'll probably be posted soon.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. In Which Jason Gets Off 145 Times in 24 Hours</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The infamous chapter six. </p><p>Jason dreams(?) of spending 'quality time' with... a great many people.</p><p> </p><p>See the end notes for content warnings.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The son of Zeus, Eros muses, rolling the small crystal vial that contains the day’s entertainment between his fingers; makes a delightful picture sprawled carelessly over sky-blue satin sheets.  His full lips are ever so slightly parted, his thighs spread wantonly across the mattress, a glint of moonlight reflecting off the slick between his cheeks.</p><p>A smirk and a thought, and the sheets are curling about the demigod’s limbs like loving hands, caressing smooth skin and spreading him gently wider before returning to their mundane appearance once more.</p><p>He can see Jason’s entrance now, the muscle relaxed enough in sleep that the low background-arousal of Eros’ domain has his slick slowly welling to the surface.  </p><p>He smiles.</p><p>The god of lust kneels carefully beside his slumbering prey, silently removing the stopper from the vial as he leans closer.  <em>So vulnerable</em>, he observes with a silent chuckle, watching the young man’s rim relax still further as his godly influence takes hold, hole winking open enough for Eros to see the darkness inside.</p><p>The vial tips, and he watches thin stream of clear fluid trace a bright thread through the night air and disappear into the warm, waiting darkness of the son of Zeus’ spread-open rim.</p><p>His reaction is almost immediate.</p><p>The young man beside him moans and arches his back and cums, gasping soft breaths into the pillows as his cock pulses to life between his legs.  Eros chuckles and flips the demigod onto his back with a twitch of his hand, once again commanding the sheets to bind him in place.</p><p>Jason is obviously still half-asleep as he tugs halfheartedly at his restraints, eyes lidded and confused as he looks up at Eros’ face.</p><p>“Wha?”</p><p>Eros chuckles.  “Feel that, little wolf?” He asks as he brushes a finger over the demigod’s suddenly wide-open hole, feeling the muscles relax further and further under his touch.  He leans down so he can whisper in the son of Zeus’ ear.  “Feel how close you are already?  How greedy and open your hole is?”  Two fingers slip in without resistance, sliding deep into fluttering heat and spreading out to drag over twitching inner walls.  </p><p>“It’s a little elixir of my own invention,” Eros continues over the sounds of Jason’s startled moaning.  “Something to make your time with myself and my brother a little more… <em>inspiring</em>.”</p>
<hr/><p>Jason gasps and squirms as Eros’ fingers quickly undo what little semblance of control he has.  Hot-fierce hunger blooms spectacularly between his legs, his hips going completely slack as every muscle below his waist decides to relax completely all at once.  The ease with which two of the god’s fingers breach him is almost as arousing as the sensations they spark within him.</p><p>“Once it takes effect, you should be seeing the ones you love instead of my brother and I.  Just think!  A chance to offer yourself to each and every dear friend you wish was perhaps a little <em>more</em>…”  The god of lust twirls his fingers, and one of his heart-tipped arrows appears between them, the moonlight glinting off the sharp edges of the head.</p><p>Jason can feel his eyes widening, something that feels like it might be fear struggling to rise in his gut, but quickly subdued by the tide of pleasure spreading outwards from Eros’ invading fingers.  The god laughs quietly as Jason tracks the motion of the arrow in his hand, swallowing around a heaving groan when the cool tip taps against the skin over his heart, drawing lazy shapes over his left pectoral.</p><p>“Of course, even half-mortals can be so <em>silly</em> about their feelings, but not to worry!”  Eros grins down at him, the arrow coming to a stop over where Jason’s heart beats quick and hard, “A little prick with one of these, and the truth of your desire will be impossible to deny!”  </p><p>A twist of the god’s wrist, and the arrow pierces through skin and muscle and sinew, celestial bronze sinking deeper into him quickly and painlessly until her feels a tiny pinch, and the arrow dissolves into golden dust, not a single mark on him to show where it entered his chest.</p><p>Eros sits back a moment as if admiring his work, fingers still moving against Jason’s inner walls even as the god’s outline above him starts to blur and shift.  He smiles.</p><p>“A slow arrow indeed, son of Zeus.”</p><p>Jason gasps and moans as his blood turns to fire in his veins.  Before his eyes, Eros’ pale skin darkens, his tight ringlets become messy curls, pale blue eyes seep away into jewel-bright emerald.</p><p>A familiar blend of sea-salt and slick wafts through the air.</p><p>Jason whimpers Percy’s name to the night air as his best friend straddles his waist and grinds their dicks together.</p>
<hr/><p>12:00 AM EST</p><p>Percy lies limp and worn out over Anteros’ altar, <em>immensely</em> thankful that he remembered to bring a cushion to lie on this time.  “Are we there yet?”</p><p>“Oh, I’m sure I could watch the two of you for hours and not get bored, but I’m satisfied for now,” a teasing voice laughs from above them.  Percy forces tired eyes open to see the god of requited love himself lounging against the base of his own statue, a lecherous grin on his face.</p><p>“Lord Anteros.”  Percy thinks Annabeth tries to bow, but the way whatever she’s doing tugs her knotted strap-on against his rim from the inside has his eyes rolling back and his spine arching up from the altar, so he can’t exactly see.  “How is Jason?”</p><p>The god laughs again.  “Oh, your friend’s about to have the night of his life, don’t you worry.” Anteros waves a hand, as if brushing their concerns away.  “And the morning of his life.  And probably the rest of the day of his life as well.  It’s a bit of a team effort on our parts,” he smiles at them.  “Rather like love is a team effort.  Or sex.  Or even this quest you’re on!”</p><p>Percy can’t see it, but he’s willing to bet Annabeth’s rolling her eyes.  </p><p>“And speaking of teams,” Anteros continues blithely, “We understand that the two of you aren’t the only demigods interested in young Jason’s progress.”  He chuckles.  “So, before I leave, a gift!  From our team to yours!”  Anteros snaps his fingers theatrically, just as Percy feels another mark spark into being on his wrist.  “Oh, they’re getting started!  I’ll see you two later.  Toodles!”</p><p>Anteros claps his hands and vanishes into thin air.  Barely second later, static flares through both of their wrists as another new mark appears.</p><p>Percy sighs and raises his voice again.  “thirty-one!”</p><p>His voice barely has a chance to finish echoing off the bare marble of the temple’s interior before the doors bang open and a <em>very angry-looking</em> Reyna and Nico storm in.  </p><p>“Jackson! The <em>fuck</em> have you gotten me into this time?”</p><p>A mad scramble for their clothes follows while Nico glares at the ceiling and Reyna glares at Percy.  It’s seriously distracting, and he’s totally blaming her for the fact that he nearly puts his pants on backwards twice.</p><p>He’s barely got his shirt on before Reyna’s fisting a hand in the orange fabric and dragging him out of the temple. </p><p>“So?”</p><p>Reyna’s ‘I’m going to murder you’ face is still terrifying.  Percy does his best not to flinch like a prey animal.</p><p>“Uh, Anteros said something about there being people other than me and Annabeth interested in Jason’s ‘progress?’” He offers.</p><p>“Annabeth and <em>I</em>,” Nico corrects him.  “And why do the gods think knowing how many times Jason’s getting off while we run their stupid errand is in any way helpful?”</p><p>Percy gapes at him.  He and Annabeth have made a point of not telling anyone what makes the marks actually turn up.  Nico just scoffs.</p><p>“I’m not an idiot, Jackson,” he sighs, “The Erotes are involved.  What <em>else</em> would they use as a measure of progress, seaweed-head?”</p><p>Percy’s totally going to try denying that.  He’s absolutely planning on it. But before he can open his mouth to start, the air in front of Nico shimmers with an Iris Message, and Hazel and Frank’s faces take shape from the mist.</p><p>“Hey guys,” Hazel looks half-asleep, but she’s thrown her praetor’s sash over her shoulder anyway.  “What’s up with these marks Frank and I just woke up with?  Is there another prophecy we’re involved in?”</p><p>“Well…” He starts to explain (or tries to), but before he can get any farther <em>another</em> patch of mist starts forming in front of Annabeth, and Leo, Calypso, and Piper’s voices come through; all talking over each other about this stupid tattoo that they’ve all gotten (or, in Calypso’s case, that her <em>boyfriend’s</em> gotten).  And then still <em>another</em> IM shimmers into focus in front of Nico, and <em>Will’s</em> voice starts asking if anyone knows how frowned-upon visible tattoos are in the medical field...</p><p>And Percy just wants to crawl under a rock and never come out again because they’re going to have to explain to everyone how they let Jason get kidnapped right out from under their noses by the sex gods.  </p><p>(And maybe because the idea of being tangentially involved in Jason’s sex life made him feel a little hot under the collar).</p><p>All he wants to do is go to bed and let Annabeth spoon him.  His hips are still a little sore, and there’s <em>definitely</em> still slick leaking into his jeans from his stretched hole, and tomorrow evening they’re supposed to do this all over again but in a very <em>public place</em> in the middle of <em>London</em>.  And instead of sleeping he’s stuck here explaining everything.</p><p>He and Annabeth finished (and Anteros ‘gifted’ his friends with their own mark-tattoos) almost exactly at nine o’clock.  It’s just after 9:10 when the thirty-second mark appears on everyone’s wrists.</p>
<hr/><p>Jason’s panting into Percy’s (or not-Percy’s) mouth and moaning when the friction of their dicks rubbing together pulls his foreskin back enough for the heads of their dicks to catch on each other.</p><p>Someone who smells like Annabeth (but isn’t actually) is stretching both he and Not-Percy open with clever fingers and murmuring indistinct praise at the same time, rubbing a thumb on the skin of his perineum and <em>pinching</em> with the fingers rubbing over his prostate until he’s whimpering, and Not-Percy’s moaning, and they’re both coming into the hot sweat-slick grind of their abs moving against each other…</p>
<hr/><p>12:15 AM EST</p><p>Another shimmering screen of mist appears in the now-crowded air, Thalia’s worried-angry face glaring out at him.</p><p>“What have you gotten my brother into <em>this time</em>, Jackson?  <em>Why</em> is the god of flattery answering our weekly Iris Message?”</p><p>“Uh…”. <em>Shit, I’m not going to survive this…</em></p><p>“Thalia, Jason’s fine.”  Percy hopes his relief isn’t too obvious when Annabeth pushes him out of the way to talk to Thalia, even if it means he’s back to facing down a pissed-off Reyna.  At least Annabeth managed to get her into we-need-a-plan mode rather than her default maim-Percy-Jackson.<em><br/>
</em></p><p>“Percy, I need you to tell me my brother’s <em>exact</em> words," Piper cuts in.  "What did they tell you they were going to do with Jason while you completed their task?”</p><p>“Uh, Annabeth probably remembers the exact words better than I do, but Eros said something about Jason having a ‘wonderful time.’ Like a vacation or something?”  He bites his lip and tries his best to dredge their conversation from his memory.  “And that he’d come back a changed man.”</p><p>Piper frowns.  “Anything else?”</p><p>“Um, yeah.”  Percy feels his skin heat up ever so slightly, which is annoying and dumb because it’s not like this is particularly embarrassing or sexual.  “Hermaphroditus said something about making him live his desires?”</p><p>“Ah.”</p><p>Piper <em>totally</em> knows (or at least, <em>thinks</em> she knows), what the gods are doing to Jason, although from the looks on Leo and Calypso’s faces Percy guesses she hasn’t shared that information with the class.</p><p>“Dude, does Jason, like, secretly want to be a nympho?”  Leo’s face is scrunched up in disbelief.  “Because there’s no way an alpha with as weak a sex drive as Superman’s is managed to get off thirty-plus times in less then two days.” </p><p>Piper rolls her eyes and smacks him on the back of the head.  “No!  And why are you even worried about it being physically possible?  He’s with the <em>literal gods of sex,</em> Leo!  It’s not like they have to worry about him not getting it up!”</p>
<hr/><p>Not-Annabeth presses Jason’s face to her crotch while Not-Percy eats him out, making the same filthy-happy noises he makes when he’s demolishing a stack of blue pancakes.  The smell of alpha is strong and potent, Jason’s face covered with her slick pleasure, and suddenly he’s coming just from the feeling of her smooth thighs rubbing against his face.</p>
<hr/><p>12:20 AM EST</p><p>“Thirty-Three,” Percy calls out as his wrist sparks again.  The volume of the various conversations around him dips slightly and the jumps back up again.</p><p>“The <em>fuck</em> are they doing?”</p><p>“I thought he had more willpower than this?”</p><p>“Even if we could go get him right now, he’d be sixty-one by the time this wears of.  How many demigods even make it to forty?”</p><p>Annabeth finally has to raise her voice to inform everyone that they need to sleep before Nico jumps them across first America and then the Atlantic to the next shrine in London.  Hazel and Frank demand to come with, as does Reyna.  The Camp Half-Blood crew wants to come too, but Nico and Will put their feet down because carting that many people around puts too much strain on Nico’s abilities.  They’re told to go stake out the Harry Potter part of Universal Studios in Orlando where the fifth shrine is, instead.</p>
<hr/><p>Hermaphroditus sits across from his mother among the blooms of her garden atop Olympus, watching the cluster of demigods Eros is attempting to bind to their guest bicker on the steps of their temple in New Rome.  </p><p>There’s… a lot go them.</p><p>“Are you certain Queen Hera won’t be angry about all of these powerful demigods joining your house?  Or Hades and Poseidon, for that matter?”</p><p>His mother laughs, Aphrodite’s variegated eyes twinkling as she waves a hand unconcernedly.  “Silly boy!  As long as young Jason ends up coming to Olympus, Hera doesn’t particularly care.”  She hums to herself thoughtfully.  “Although you may have a point with Hades and Poseidon.  I understand that the Lord of the Underworld has <em>plans</em> for his son; and that his brother is quite attached to young Perseus.”  </p><p>She taps a perfectly-manicured finger against her equally perfect lips.  “I’m sure you and Hymenaeus can come up with divine appointments for them that would appease their powerful and ornery fathers.”</p><p>Hermaphroditus sighs into his tea.  “I suppose that means you wish for Hymenaeus and I to arrange assignments for the rest of them as well?”</p><p>His mother laughs.  “Well, it’s not like I can rely on any of your other brothers to take care of it, can I?”</p>
<hr/><p>Not-Percy (Or maybe it’s the real Percy?  Jason’s brain is a little fuzzy as to why this isn’t really Percy) is pressing Jason’s hips down into Annabeth’s as he rides Jason’s cock, forcing Jason to fuck himself on Maybe-Annabeth’s strap-on while the Alpha presses one of Percy’s shirts to Jason’s face.    All it takes is one extra-strong downward thrust from the omega above him to have Jason biting into sweat-and-skin-tasting fabric and shooting his seed deep into Percy’s hole…</p>
<hr/><p>1:20 AM EST</p><p>Marks thirty-four through thirty-eight appear while they’re settling in for the night at the ambassadorial villa that Nico and Hazel have use of.  Annabeth and Reyna longingly contemplate drugging both Percy and Nico to make them sleep.</p>
<hr/><p>Maybe-Percy’s slick tastes <em>amazing</em> on Jason’s tongue, sweat and sea-air and salt and the sweet aftertaste of slick filling his mouth and nose.  His eyelashes are stuck together with Percy and Maybe-Annabeth’s mingled juices, hair tangled from the tugging of their fingers.  Behind him, Possibly-Annabeth grips his hips and pulls him up onto his knees, pressing his face even deeper into the valley between Could-Be-Percy’s cheeks so she can slide the girth of her strap-on over his twitching rim.</p><p><em>“So good for us, Jason,”</em> Almost-Definitely-Percy moans into the pillows, strong fingers in Jason’s hair trying to pull him even closer.  <em>“Fuck, your tongue feels incredible.  You like the way I taste?”</em></p><p>Jason groans around another small rush of slick and shoots his load across the sheets to the beat of Might-Be-Annabeth’s hips against his own.<em><br/>
</em></p>
<hr/><p>1:30 AM EST</p><p>Trying to sleep with an arm that feels like it’s being jolted with static electricity every ten minutes isn’t particularly fun.  Frank finally gets around it by transforming himself into a snake (and thus not having any arms), but Hazel just has to lie in bed and attempt to sleep through it.  </p><p>(...And try not to think too hard about how one of her best friends has apparently gotten off every ten minutes for the last hour and a half like clockwork).</p>
<hr/><p>Jason doesn’t remember getting out of bed or getting dressed, but Percy’s got him pressed up against a wall, lips tasting of something sweet and alcoholic as their hips grind together.  Annabeth leans against a tall, round table, watching the two of them with a calculating, proprietary gleam in her eyes over the rim of her glass.</p><p>Jason moans as Percy’s hands slide around his waist and into the back of his<em> tight tight tight</em> jeans, grasping and spreading the globes of Jason’s ass, the tips of his middle fingers teasing the slick skin around his rim.  Jason would return the favor, but his own arms are wrapped tight around Percy’s shoulders to keep him upright as his legs turn to jelly.</p><p>One of Percy’s legs finds its way between Jason’s and suddenly it doesn’t matter that his lower half has decided to go on vacation, because letting his weight grind his crotch against Percy’s thigh is so much better.  A high, needy whine makes its way out of Jason’s throat as Percy’s hands drag his hips forward and down, his mouth trailing sloppy kisses up the curve of Jason’s jaw and down to his neck, lips and tongue pressing against the scent gland there.  Annabeth’s gaze remains steady, heated eyes dragging up and down their bodies as they rut against each other.</p><p>Percy’s hands shift, and Jason feels like he’s melting when Percy’s middle fingers slide inward to hook into his hole and stretch him wide open; letting his slick run freely, sticking stretched denim to his skin and making him feel exposed and wanton.  It feels <em>incredible</em>, the flutter of his rim against sword-callused fingers and the feeling of warm-sticky wetness spreading down his thighs.  He closes his eyes and tilts his head back against the wall and moans louder because Percy’s brushing his teeth his scent glands and rubbing their clothed cocks against each other and-</p><p>The world spins, and suddenly Percy’s against the wall and dragging Jason closer as someone (Annabeth) presses up behind him.  Another mouth finds his other scent glad, teeth teasing the skin with their pressure.  Fingers brush over the seam that runs between his legs and it opens like a zipper, revealing Jason’s hole and Percy’s fingers to the cool night air.  A shiver runs up Jason’s spine as a light breeze plays over hot-slick-sweaty skin, molten heat surging beneath his navel as a new, slimmer finger with a perfectly manicured nail slips easily into him.</p><p><em>“Are you ready to be ours, Jason?”</em> Annabeth asks, voice muffled against the skin of his throat.  <em>“Ready for us to claim you?  To own your heart?  To accept us?”</em></p><p>Jason squirms as the finger hooks down and presses on his prostate.  “Please!”</p><p><em>“Okay, Jason.”</em> The finger retreats, only to be replaced by the thick weight of blunt silicone he’s become so familiar with.  It forces Percy’s fingers hard against his walls as its length pushes between them, Jason panting into Percy’s sweat-damp curls when he wiggles their tips inside him to get him to loosen up more.</p><p>The head pops through his rim, and then it’s sinking into him; cool, firm silicone dragging against the sensitive skin of his hole.  Jason rocks his hips against Percy and then back into Annabeth’s slow press forward, the space he has to move diminishing each time he repeats the pattern.  He’s trapped between them, sensitive nipples rubbing against the bare skin of Percy’s torso as Annabeth’s breasts compress against his back.  The swell of the fake knot rubs between Jasons cheeks, forcing him to grind higher and higher up Percy’s thigh until there’s no escape.</p><p><em>“Jason.”</em> Slim, strong fingers thread through his hair and grip, pulling his head back and to one side so his neck is exposed.  Blunt teeth clamp down on his primary scent gland.  Percy moans against the inside curve of his throat, tongue laving over sweat-slick skin, fingers pulling Jason still wider as the knot settles against his rim.  Little punched-out moans fall from Jason’s lips as the pressure increases, almost lifting him up off his feet before his rim gives up the fight and Annabeth’s strap-on locks inside him in a hot slick rush.</p><p>Jason <em>wails</em> into the night air as two pairs of teeth bite down, hole spasming and clenching as he spends himself in the confines of his tight jeans.</p><p>
  <em>Claimed.</em>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p>3:00 AM EST</p><p>Nico glares at the ceiling of his room and considers calling for one of the children of Venus to charmspeak him to sleep.  It’s been <em>three hours</em> since the stupid orgasm-counter appeared on his wrist.  Three hours and eighteen marks.  Almost two full rows of them march around his wrist now.</p><p>Or maybe sleep’s a bad idea right now.  There’s no way he won’t dream of Jason sandwiched safe between himself and Will, his two golden-blond giants sucking face while he takes turns rimming them stupid.  Will riding Jason’s knot while he moans around Nico’s dick…</p><p>He shakes himself free of the fantasy.  Another mark buzzes on his skin.  He resumes glaring.</p>
<hr/><p>Jason stands at attention before Praetor Reyna, back straight against the weight of his armor even as his insides clench and squirm around the girth of the knotted toy filling his hole.  He’s keenly aware of the <em>probatios</em> at his back, a hand under his tunic still gripping the base of the toy; of Aurum and Argentum sitting alert at Reyna’s feet to keep him honest.</p><p>His face still <em>burns</em> from the cool authority with which she’d commanded him to be still while the <em>probatios</em> pressed the length of the dildo into his slick-hungry hole, from the way he couldn’t contain the noises the girth of it drove out of him as it filled him up. </p><p><em>“At ease, centurion,”</em> she finally says after watching him for a minute with piercing intensity.  His body snaps to obey, hands clasped at the small of his back, the widening of his stance letting the knot inside him sink lower until its weight rests against the twitching muscle of his rim.  He clenches around it when Reyna waves the <em>probatios</em> from the room, the recruit’s hand no longer supporting the toy’s weight.  The head of it shifts inside him, rubbing over his prostate, pleasure relaxing him until he has to clench again or risk the toy slipping out of him, beginning the cycle anew.  Fucking himself on the toy hands-free before his superior while she watches with a dispassionate and detached gaze.  Her raised eyebrow asking <em>how long will you last?</em></p><p>Jason doesn’t think he makes it a full three minutes before he’s moaning and spending himself into the fine linen of his tunic; the toy slipping free of his orgasm-lax hole with a loud, wet <em>schlick</em> to bounce away across the floor as slick runs freely down the inside of his thighs.  <em><br/>
</em></p><p>Reyna smiles.  Pleased.</p><p>His parade rest never slipped.</p>
<hr/><p>6:00 AM EST</p><p>Will drinks two mugs of chamomile tea before bed and actually manages to get back to sleep in between the little snaps of static in his wrist.  It helps that it’s always been easy to sleep when the sun’s down.</p><p>He dreams of Jason.  And Nico.  And himself, sweaty and naked and flushed and smiling.  </p><p>Indistinct dreams full of vague sensation and golden light and Nico whispering his name in his ear and Jason’s laugh and sweet friction-</p><p>He jolts awake in the thin light of the early morning and groans at the mess he’s left in the sheets.</p>
<hr/><p>Calypso’s large, powerful hands and slim fingers restrain Jason’s wrists behind his back as smaller, greasier ones rub up and down his bare thighs.  </p><p>“You’re doing great, Superman,” Leo assures him as Jason groans and arches his back.  The son of Hephaestus sits beside Jason’s spread legs so he can watch the smooth in-and-out motion of the machine fucking Jason’s brains out with a critical eye.  “Feel good?”</p><p>Jason whines and moans, and manages to force out a breathy <em>“Yes!” </em></p><p>Leo looks up at him and beams.  “Great!”  A teasing glint twinkles in his eye, and Jason swallows apprehensively as the son of Hephaestus leans in close so their lips are almost touching.  “Wanna feel even better?”<em><br/>
</em></p><p>It’s a trap.  It’s <em>absolutely</em> a trap.  Jason’s too familiar with that particular quirk of Leo’s mouth, the teasing <em>‘come-on-if-you’re-man-enough</em>’ lilt in his voice; but the slow, rhythmic push and pull of the toy through his rim leaves him <em>stupid</em>, so instead of saying ‘no,’ he looks down the long line of his own body to where he’s hard and dripping pre over his own abdominal and says:<em><br/>
</em></p><p>“Okay.  Sure.”</p>
<hr/><p>8:00 AM EST</p><p>It’s eight in the morning when the six of them step out of the shadows onto the porch of the Big House at Camp Half-Blood.  There are three full rings of little marks around Frank’s wrist, and another four in the next incomplete band.  Another appears while they’re waiting for Chiron to come outside.  </p><p>Already, the idea finishing this quest before Jason accumulates too many years is bust.  What demigod has <em>ever</em> lived to be 109?  Frank’s grandmother is the oldest one he’s ever heard of, and she didn’t even make it to ninety.</p><p>Nico drags Will away from the infirmary (“You’re in medical school!  Let the current campers do their thing!  I need a nap,”) and the rest of them camp out on the front porch.  He tucks Hazel’s head under his chin and closes his eyes.  He got more sleep than she did last night, but not by a whole lot, and not without some <em>really</em> vivid dreams involving a certain praetor and fifth cohort’s communal showers…</p>
<hr/><p>Plush, full lips press against Jason’s own, breath that tastes of sunlight mingling behind his teeth as Will moans into his mouth.  They’re pressed together from chest to groin, their limbs bound together by what looks (when Jason can bear to tear his eyes away from Will’s flushed and panting face) like ropes of pure shadow.</p><p>Jason gasps as Will arches his back and grinds their hips together, the drag of his cock over sun-warm flesh distracting him enough for Will to claim his mouth for another kiss.  It’s sloppy.  Will moans like a porn star the entire time, squirming under Jason so their nipples rub teasingly against each other’s skin.  Every slide of their dicks against each other leaves Jason boneless and dripping, igniting the lake of fire that pools beneath his navel.</p><p>The ropes around their ankles wind higher up their bound legs under their own power, and Jason finally notices the dip in the mattress behind them indicating a third presence in the bed.  The aura of darkness tells him it must be Nico.  Nico’s shadows binding them and sliding teasingly around the meat of Will and Jason’s thighs, pulling them further apart and up; leaving them on display for Nico’s personal enjoyment.</p><p>“You two look good together,” he comments, cold hands sliding over the taught skin of Jason’s ass and pulling his cheeks apart for an even better view.  More tendrils of shadow wiggle out from under Will’s back, sliding cool and dry over heated skin, binding them together from waist to shoulder.  </p><p>The eager rut of their hips against each other is stilled, dragging twin groans of protest from their lips at the loss of friction.  Jason feels another soft cord of solidified darkness slip lovingly around the base of his cock and under his balls even as the tips of the tendrils at his shoulders wind into his hair and tug his head back so Will can suck bruises into the skin of his throat.</p><p>“You like the way he feels, Will?”  Nico asks with feigned sweetness, his hands sliding away from Jason’s ass, presumably to tease his boyfriend.  “All that muscle pressing down on you?”  </p><p>The son of Hades does <em>something</em> with those hands that has Will gasping and keening against Jason’s neck and his dick twitching violently against Jason’s.  “Nico!”</p><p>Jason swallows down a moan and watches the son of Apollo just <em>fall apart</em> underneath him, eyes squeezed shut, mouth falling slack, head lolling back against the sheets.  Punched-out little moans drop from his lips, his entire body tensing with each one as if he’s being fucked into the mattress by Eros himself; even though Nico’s sitting still and quiet between their spread legs.  The son of Hades chuckles.</p><p>“Your turn, Jason,” he murmurs, as one of his fingers trails up Jason’s perineum to rest against the slick pucker of his hole.</p><p>There’s moment of confusion where Jason waits for Nico to push that finger through his rim, but it’s instantly forgotten when the aching emptiness inside his hole <em>solidifies</em> and starts pushing outwards against his walls and prostate.  </p><p>Jason cries out in surprise and starts squirming just as much as Will, his higher brain functions rapidly flying away on the gale of sensation that blows through him.  He moans embarrassingly loudly against Will’s neck, dick twitching <em>hard</em> against the son of Apollo’s own shaft in their shared binding of shadows.</p><p>“Poor Jason,” Nico croons from behind him as Jason’s insides light up with the feeling of penetration while his hole remains loose but definitely still <em>unbreached</em> under Nico’s finger.  “I bet you’ve been feeling so <em>empty</em> the whole time I’ve let you and Will play together.  I bet you never realized you’re completely <em>full</em> of shadows down there all the time, did you?  Never imagined the darkness under your clothes coming to life and slipping into your hungry wet hole to fuck you silly in the middle of the day?”</p><p>He hasn’t, and now he’s not sure he’ll ever be able to look Nico in the eye without thinking about it.  He wails against the skin of Will’s throat as the empty darkness inside him reaches deeper, spreads him wider, dances maddeningly against his prostate.  Silk-soft almost-not-there coolness strokes tenderly as a lover’s hand over every slick and quivering inch of his walls, drowning out everything else save the cruel cinch around the base of his cock and balls.  </p><p>“Does it turn you on, knowing that your hole is <em>always</em> filled with shadows?  That there’s not a single moment where you aren’t carrying something <em>I</em> control inside you, just waiting for me to bring it to life?”  </p><p>Jason nods so quickly he nearly cracks his head against Will’s.  Nico bends down to press a kiss to Jason’s back between the shadowy ropes that bind him, and Jason realizes that the son of Hades is still fully dressed when rough denim and soft cotton brush against the inside of his thighs and the small of his back. </p><p>Knowing that Nico’s still clothed while he teases Will and Jason mercilessly is nearly as much of a turn-on as knowing Nico could do this to Jason again any time he pleases.  That Jason could be showering at the gym or standing in line to buy his groceries, and the little patches of darkness he carries unwittingly around all the time could start taking him apart just like <em>this</em>.</p><p>Beneath him, Will jerks and whines, and Jason can feel hot cum splashing against the skin of his belly, a warm puddle spreading between them, intermingling with the darkness created by their contact.  Tendrils of shadow slide through it, coating themselves in Will’s seed before slithering up between them to press their blunt-wet tips between Will’s kiss-swollen lips. </p><p>Jason can’t tear his eyes away, even as the shadows playing inside him start tapping insistently on his prostate.  Will moans even louder when he tastes himself, closing his eyes as if in bliss as he starts suckling on the tip of the shadow.  He’s so captivated by the sight that he doesn’t notice the similarly-coated tendril making its way toward his own mouth until it’s pressing against his lips, or Nico taking away the single finger that’s been teasing his pucker.</p><p>He lets out a broken moan of his own as the flavor of Will’s cum explodes across his senses, the shadow quickly spreading its cargo over his tongue before beginning to explore his mouth with enthusiasm.  It brushes behind his teeth and gently over the roof of his mouth; wraps sensually around his tongue when he strokes it over the intruder’s length-</p><p>Four thin strands of silken darkness suddenly slide around the curve of his hips, sliding effortlessly through his rim and spreading his hole wide open, no doubt putting the slick pink skin inside him on display for Nico’s inspection.  Or it would, if the shadow fucking him didn’t take the opportunity to expand <em>again</em>, pushing out of him past the tendrils hooked around the muscle of his rim and petting teasingly down his perineum.  It’s a supremely confusing sensation to try to parse; the shadow’s weightless girth make it feel less like he’s being penetrated (even if it’s in reverse), and more like he’s just so loose his hole can’t help but sag open.  The way it strokes over the smooth skin behind his balls almost tickles, and his hips can’t decide whether to try to escape the touch or push into it harder.  </p><p>Fortunately for Jason’s scrambled mind, the shadow quickly moves on from teasing him there, sliding down around the swell of his balls and wiggling into the tight, cum-sticky space between Will’s groin and his own.  More and more of it seems to pour out of the wet darkness of his hole, though the size of it inside him never seems to change.  The tip of it feels almost like a mouth when it presses against the tender skin of his shaft, massaging the soft skin of his head briefly before nearly <em>flowing</em> around it and engulfing his cock in a sleeve of tight, flexing darkness </p><p>
  <em>“Fufh!”</em>
</p><p>Nico chuckles to himself at Jason’s muffled curse.  One of the tendrils around his shoulders reaches up to pat through his hair.  Jason can’t decide if it’s comforting or patronizing, but it doesn’t really matter when it feels like the sleeve around his dick is trying to milk his soul out through his balls.</p><p>Will’s still squirming underneath him and Nico’s hands are brushing ever-so-lightly over the smooth skin on the back of his thighs, his gaze like a physical weight on where Jason and Will are spread open for him.  Jason can’t help but moan and clench and twitch around the girth filling him up.  It twists and probes and slides against his inner walls like it’s alive, latches itself onto his prostate like it’s never going to let go.  Ripples move up from where it’s sucking on his cock back toward his hole, each one making an obscenely wet sound as it enters him.</p><p>He’s teetering on the edge of orgasm within half a minute, each moan and whine growing steadily needier and higher as his stamina is <em>destroyed</em> by Nico’s overwhelming assault.  Tendrils swarm over his body, rubbing smoothly over the insides of his knees and elbows, twining around his fingers and toes, sliding and grasping at his hair.  A particularly thick one insinuates itself like a weightless-warm collar around his throat as he whimpers and stares wide-eyed down at Will’s pleasure-slack face.  The tendril in his hole ripples faster against the slick-hot-tenderized skin of his rim and he topples over the edge like a train running off a washed-out bridge.  </p><p>He can’t cry out properly around the shadow caressing his tongue, but the noise he makes is still plenty loud as his whole body goes tense as a wire and then collapses into the hold of Nico’s shadow-tendrils all at once.  His hips jerk and his balls clench as the sleeve over his cock sucks his seed away, each wave passing through his stretched rim driving his climax on for a little longer until he’s nearly sobbing with how intense it is.  </p><p>Nico’s fingers brush delicate lines over the trembling muscle of his spread thighs as the slick warmth of his own release fills his hole.  Dry silken shadows swoop over the bare patches of his skin like clean cloth wiping away the sweat from his body.  His limbs feel like they’re filled with warm and pliable lead, too heavy to bother moving from their sprawl even as the cords binding them slither away, their ends congregating between his fingers and stroking over the tops of his feet.  Below him, Will sighs with contentment, tendrils petting through the wild golden mess of his curls.</p>
<hr/><p>10:00 AM EST</p><p>Reyna stabs at her late breakfast with her fork and side-eyes at Piper, who seems annoyingly unconcerned for her ex-boyfriend’s fate.</p><p>“I’m not saying we shouldn’t be hurrying to get him back, just that the window in which we could do so and realistically expect him to live long enough for the aftereffects to fade naturally has been closed for a while now, so we shouldn’t be taking unnecessary <em>risks</em>,” the daughter of Aphrodite stresses, shoving a plate of food across the table at a surly-looking Nico. </p><p>The son of Hades glares right back.  “You weren’t there in Split with us.  Eros is going to do <em>something</em> we’re all going to regret.  He’s been waiting for an opportunity for <em>years</em>.”</p><p>It’s been more than ten years and Reyna is <em>still</em> waiting for an explanation of what exactly went down with Nico and Jason in Croatia.  Cupid was involved, and neither Nico or Jason have had anything particularly nice to say about the god of love since; but as far as she knows they’ve never told anyone exactly what happened.</p><p>“I don’t think he will dude,” Leo jumps in, waving a fork-full of breakfast sausage for emphasis.  “Pretty sure all the like, <em>hundreds</em> of minor gods and goddesses Superman’s built temples for would turn Eros inside out if he tried anything that obvious.”</p><p><em>Not a bad point,</em> Reyna admits to herself.</p><p>“It’s also entirely possible that Jason’s completely fine with whatever changes the Erotes plan on making, and we’re panicking over nothing.” Piper points out.”  Their sphere of influence is pretty restricted to sex; it’s not like they can make him suddenly prefer yellow over blue or start hating brownies or whatever.”</p>
<hr/><p>Jason’s leaning bonelessly against his locker, his sweaty training clothes forgotten in a pile by his feet.  Something damp and <em>incredible-smelling</em> is clamped over his face and a warm, muscular, <em>decidedly</em> <em>naked</em> body is pressed up against his back.</p><p>Jason can’t help himself.  He’s <em>dripping</em> wet between his legs, training-sore muscles already limp as a large, strong hand trails up and down the meat of his thigh.  </p><p>“Like the way I smell?” Frank’s voice practically purrs in his ear, grinding his erection against the swell of Jason’s ass “Are my pheromones getting you all wet and ready down here?”  The hand on his waist slides past Jason’s own swelling cock and down between his legs, the tip of a thick finger rubbing through the slick coating his rim.</p><p>It pushes in almost immediately, and Jason groans into what he thinks might be the crotch of Frank’s sweaty post-workout underwear and arches down into it, breath hitching when the first finger is quickly followed by a second one.</p><p>Jason’s already getting deep into the way Frank’s stretching him open when he registers a gasp from the door.  He’s too out of it to care though, the realization that they’ve been caught quickly slipping away as Frank crooks and spreads his fingers inside him.  </p><p>Frank is clearly much less effected, because he turns his head away from mouthing at Jason’s scent glands to say something to whoever just walked in on them.  </p><p>The fabric falls away from Jason’s face as Frank switches hands between his legs, although the residual moisture from it that clings to Jason’s skin is plenty enough to keep him flying on his pheromone high.  </p><p>A few moments later, a familiar scent washes over Jason, and Percy’s joining him against the metal wall of the lockers; skin dripping from the pool and a tiny blue scrap of tight fabric clinging low around his hips.  They barely have time to make eye contact before Percy’s gasping again and then moaning as the hand that had previously been working Jason open slips down the back of Percy’s swimsuit.  </p><p>“There you are,” Frank practically <em>croons</em> at Percy as he sags against the lockers next to Jason,  “Annabeth said you might need to be looked after while she’s in New York for the weekend.  You want to join us?”</p><p>Jason moans himself when Percy bites his lip and nods eagerly, already arching his back into Frank’s hand.  “Yeah.”</p><p>“Come here, then,” Frank orders, fingers slipping out of both of them so he can sit down on one of the locker room benches.  When Jason collects himself to look over his shoulder, the son of Mars is sitting with his legs spread, patting the meat of his thighs invitingly.  </p><p>“Come on.  I’ve got a leg for each of you.”</p><p>It takes him a moment to gather himself, but Jason manages to make it over to Frank’s bench and lower himself down until he’s straddling one of those thick legs; collapsing forward and moaning into Frank’s shoulder almost immediately when the legacy reaches down to slide his fingers back inside Jason’s hole.  Percy joins him on Frank’s other side a few seconds later, now completely bare.  He makes eye contact with Jason, and Jason somehow manages to blush <em>harder</em> when he watches Percy’s face go slack and pleasured at the feeling of Frank’s fingers sliding into him.</p>
<hr/><p>12:00 PM EST</p><p>Piccadilly Circus is big and busy and the statue of Anteros is <em>right in the middle of it.</em>  Annabeth can see at least eight cameras pointing in its general direction, and she’s willing to bet there are more on the surrounding buildings.</p><p>“Maybe Hazel can manipulate the Mist so it just looks like we’re two pigeons going at it?”  Percy suggests, trying to follow her eyes around the large open space.  </p><p>“I don’t think that’ll work,” Hazel sighs.  “The Mist only really conceals stuff related to magic and the gods.  I don’t think the two of you having sex in a public place is really abnormal enough for it to hide.”</p><p>His shoulders slump in defeat.  “Well then I’m out of ideas.  You got anything, Wise Girl?”</p><p>Annabeth reaches out absently to pat him on the head, still surveying the square.  There really are a <em>lot</em> of cameras.  She’s beginning to wish she’d brought Leo along.  They’ve still got all the potions and charms Lou Ellen gave them, but they’ll probably need most if not all of them to safely navigate the Athenian acropolis…</p><p>Nico’s probably too tired to cover them in shadows, and it looks like the fountain is going to be too well-lit for that to be a viable option anyway…</p><p>“Are there any minor gods who might be willing to help us because of Jason?” Frank asks, finally.</p><p>
  <em>Gods bless that man.  Hazel has excellent taste.</em>
</p><p>“Nyx, maybe,” She muses.  “Or Erebus.  They’re both gods affiliated with night or darkness…”</p><p>“What do you even offer to get the god of darkness’ attention?” Reyna inquires.  “Broken lightbulbs?”</p><p>“Jason probably knows,” Nico groans.  “Not like we can ask him right now.  Do either of them have any children we could ask?”</p><p>
  <em>Ah!</em>
</p><p>“Does anyone have a drachma?  I think I know how to make the mist cover us.”<em><br/>
</em></p>
<hr/><p><em>“You’re doing great Jason,</em>” Piper croons in his ear, her voice laden with charm-speak.</p><p>Jason shivers and moans around the length of Leo’s cock as her praise wraps around his lust-addled mind like a warm blanket.  Leo’s skin tastes of smoke and sweat and leather; his dick, when Jason pulls back a moment to catch his breath, drips and shines with Jason’s spit in the low light of the bedroom (it looks like the one Piper’s dad keeps for her in his Hollywood mansion, but Jason isn’t really paying much attention).  Leo’s fingers are in his hair, and one of his devious-awful-<em>perfect</em> toys buzzes and swivels against his rim, and Piper’s hands are stroking soothing lines up and down the arch of Jason’s back. </p><p><em>“You like Leo’s little present, don’t you?”</em>  She ask-tells him, one of her hands running over the curve of his ass toward where he’s dripping and sensitive.  Jason whimpers around Leo’s cock and pushes his hips back and up even farther, trying to force it deeper into him even though there’s nothing to push against.  At least, until Piper rests the tips of her fingers gently against the base of the toy, just enough pressure for the movement of his hips to have its girth sliding ever so slightly deeper inside him.  </p><p>Jason feels like he could rock back and forth between the two of them for hours, but Piper asked him a question, and he can’t <em>not</em> answer.</p><p>“Yes!”  Piper’s fingers drive it even deeper on his next push back, and it’s <em>so good</em> that Jason’s arms can’t hold him up anymore.  He whimpers and collapses face first onto Leo’s crotch, his best friend’s dick sliding wet and messy against his flushed face.  “I love it.  Fuck, Leo- it’s <em>perfect!”</em></p><p>Leo gives a breathless laugh and ruffles Jason’s messy hair affectionately.  “Damn, Superman, do all my toys get you fuck-drunk this quick?”</p><p>Jason tries to nod, but only really succeeds in rubbing his face against Leo's cock some more.  They must understand what he means, though, because both Leo and Piper coo at him.  He tells them anyway.  <br/>
<br/>
“Love them all,” Jason pants.  “Love <em>you</em>.”</p><p>Leo’s hips stutter up against his chin and he moans when Jason takes that as an invitation to start sucking on the side of his shaft.</p><p>“Love you too, Superman,” he groans out once he tugs on Jason’s hair enough to get Jason to look up at Leo’s face.  “Want my knot?”</p><p>Jason honestly can’t think of anything he wants more as soon as the words leave Leo’s lips.  The son of Hephaestus might not have charm-speak, but it’s easy enough for Piper to get him to respond to Leo’s voice as if he does.</p><p>He moans against the crease of Leo’s adonis lines and arches his back; feels himself flex open even further around Leo’s <em>ruinous</em> little invention just before Piper tugs it out of him. “I want it, Leo.  Please?”</p><p>“Anything you want, Jay,” Leo laughs softly as he urges Jason to flip over on his back.  He and Piper trade places, constantly whispering words of praise in Jason’s ears as their slim hands position him the way they want him.  </p><p>Piper straddles his chest, her folds slick with anticipation as she cups the back of his head to bring him closer.  Jason sticks his tongue out, hungry for the first taste of her, which makes her giggle.</p><p>“You’re so goofy when you get like this; it’s adorable,” she laughs as she gives him what he wants.  Jason hums in contentment against her skin, even as he feels Leo settling between his legs, the inhuman heat he gives off comforting against the cooling sweat on his skin.</p><p>Leo twists Jason’s hips to one side until he can straddle one leg while hooking Jason’s opposite knee over his shoulder.  Jason feels like he’s going to <em>explode</em> from how <em>open</em> the position leaves him feeling, an almost-sob tearing its way out of his chest when the tip of Leo’s cock pushes easily past his rim.  </p><p>“<em>Fuck</em>, Jason!  You feel amazing,” Leo groans as he keeps pressing in.  His dick feels impossibly long like this, a wonderful spear sliding deep inside of him and pinning him in place with pleasure alone.  “Feel good?”</p><p>Piper drags him away from her crotch long enough for Jason to gasp out a “<em>So good</em>,” before she’s mashing his face against her pubic bone again.</p><p>The girth of Leo’s knot knocks against his rim and Jason tries to arch back into it, but he can’t get the leverage he needs in the position they’ve got him in.  Instead, he has to wait for Leo to give it to him while both of them drive him crazy with sensation.  </p><p><em>“You’re perfect for us, Jason,”</em> Piper tells him, her voice positively dripping with magic as Leo finally slips the widest part of his knot past Jason’s rim and locks inside him.  </p>
<hr/><p>3:00 PM EST</p><p>“So remind me again why we’re at a library instead of hanging around Piccadilly Circus waiting for the crowds to clear out?”  Percy asks, idly flipping through a book on deep-sea fish.  They’ve been in London for <em>hours</em> already, and they’ve spent most of it holed up with dusty books.</p><p>“Looking for the exact location of the shrine in Athens,” Annabeth answers distractedly. “Chiron just told us it’s on or near the acropolis, but that’s not exactly precise.”</p><p>“Near.  It’ll be near the acropolis, not on it,” Reyna states, pushing an especially dusty book across the table toward his girlfriend.  “Look at this.”</p><p>“Timagoras and Meles,” she murmurs, pulling the book closer.  “Oh!  That makes sense.”</p><p>The names mean next to nothing to Percy (besides being obviously Greek), but Annabeth seems to recognize them.  “What makes sense?”</p><p>Reyna rolls her eyes at him.  “Timagoras was a <em>metic</em>, a foreigner living in Athens.  Meles was a citizen.  Timagoras fell in love with Meles, but Meles rejected him and told him to prove his love by throwing himself off the top of a tall rock.”</p><p>Percy snorts.  “Well that’s stupid.  Did he?”</p><p>“He did," Annabeth answers, “And he died.  And then Meles was so moved by the depth of Timagoras’ love for him that he jumped off the same rock and died too.”</p><p>“And then the other foreigners living in Athens built an altar dedicated to Anteros at the base of the rock to symbolize their devotion to each other,” Reyna finishes, nose wrinkling, probably at the overblown <em>Greek-ness</em> of the whole story.  </p><p>She’s not wrong.</p><p>“So is this rock still around?”  Nico asks, peering over Anabeth’s shoulder.</p><p>Annabeth scans the page in front of her again and sighs with disappointment.  </p><p>“No idea.”</p>
<hr/><p>Another smooth gemstone slips past the fluttering muscle of his rim, and Jason sighs as the weight of it settles inside him, bumping against the others already inside him.  He burrows deeper into the soft pillow under his head and shoulders, knees shifting against fine sheets as he tries to cant his hips even higher.</p><p>“You’re doing really good, Jason,” Hazel reassures him, her small hands immediately reaching out to smooth the curve of his back a little.  “Don’t worry so much about keeping your posture perfect, okay?  This is about making you feel good.  It’s fine if you need to slip a little.”  She laughs brightly, and Jason’s breath hitches as the cool outline of his next passenger traces a circle through the slick around his hole.  “I’ll take it as a compliment.”</p><p>Jason gasps and whimpers as his hole devours her next offering, something that feels like a smooth nugget of metal about the size of his thumb.  It’s much heavier than most of the gemstones she’s given him to carry, pressing them out of the way to slide right in against his prostate.  </p><p>Between his legs his dick jerks and twitches and drips, a ring of pure diamond sitting heavy around the root.  Cuffs of amethyst and sapphire encircle his wrists and ankles, a gold collar wrapped around his throat.  Jewels and precious metals adorn his fingers, sparkling in the warm light of the room whenever he catches them out of the corner of his eye.</p><p>“Want another?” Hazel asks after giving him a few moments to ride the pleasure.  He can hear the clink of her hand trailing through the small bowl of jewels and nuggets on the nightstand. </p><p>“Please,” he groans out against the fluff of the pillow.  “Feels good.”</p><p>“The gems themselves, or knowing you’re holding them for me?”  A fresh stone slips between his cheeks, multi-faceted surface sending sparks through the hyper-sensitive nerves of his ring when she rubs it there.  </p><p>“Hmmm.  Both,” Jason confesses, widening his stance and letting his hips sink a little lower as he wills his hole to relax and admit its next passenger.  Hazel pats him on the flank as she presses the stone into him.  It tumbles hard right into the rear of her previous gift, thumping it against his prostate again and making Jason’s muscles jump.  He groans loudly as his cock drools a heavy line of pre onto the sheets.</p><p>“Think you can come like this, Jason?”  Hazel asks, dragging a finger down his length briefly before returning to more soothing touches.  “I know how much doing what I want turns you on.  Do you think holding all my loose gems for me will be enough?”</p><p>Jason summons the strength to lift his head enough to get a glimpse of the bowl.  It’s still at least half full, maybe a little more.  Most of what’s left looks bigger and heavier than what he’s taken so far, too.  The thought of those riches weighing him down makes his inner walls clench around the stones already in him, rolling them around and over each other deliciously.  </p><p>“Hope so,” he finally answers when his brain stops short-circuiting from the sensation, letting his face fall back onto the pillow, but keeping it turned to the side so he can watch her choose the next stone. “I want to.”</p><p>The next gem Hazel plucks from the bowl is an uncut diamond that looks bigger than Jason’s big toe, and he can’t help moaning and curling his toes imagining its weight slipping inside of him.  Hazel obviously catches him watching, because she laughs and turns it this way and that in the light to show it off a little before taking it out of his line of sight.</p><p>It slips in just as easily as the others, and Jason was absolutely right about the weight of it feeling <em>incredible</em> when it settles in place.  The weight of all he’s carrying is really starting to milk his prostate now, and he can feel himself dripping slowly but constantly from the tip of his cock and the twitching rim of his hole.  </p><p>Almost all the rest of the remaining stones are of similar size and weight.  They slide into him one after another with increasing ease, each one drawing another thick stream of pre from him and driving him higher.  Finally, there’s just one stone left in the bowl, and it’s easily the largest yet; a huge rough diamond the size of a large plug.  Hazel weighs it contemplatively in her palm in the lamplight, allowing Jason to whine and clench with anticipation.  He’s already so full; what feels like dozens of gemstones weighing him down and stretching him out, but he can’t help practically <em>drooling</em> when he imagines it sliding inside him and locking the others behind it.</p><p>“A bit over three thousand carats,” she tells him when she catches him staring at it, “about a pound and a quarter, roughly.”  She smiles brightly at him.  “Just a bit bigger than the stone the British Crown Jewels were cut from, actually.”</p><p>Jason <em>whimpers</em> and spreads his thighs a bit wider.  Hazel’s face softens and she reaches out with her free hand to pat him on the cheek.</p><p>“Oh Jason, you’re such a sweetheart, aren’t you?” She reaches around him to press the narrower end if the stone to his perineum, watching with glittering black-gold eyes as he arches back into it, eyes fluttering closed as it slides effortlessly through the river of slick he’s leaking.  It’s surface is so smooth, there’s no way Hazel hasn’t specifically prepared this particular gem for exactly this.  </p><p>Thinking about short-sweet-deadly Hazel sitting in this bed and running her hands over the surface of the jewel, of her smoothing out all its edges so he can take it safely, has him moaning before it even properly starts to tease at his hole.  The thought of Hazel <em>planning</em> and <em>preparing</em> to take care of him so thoroughly fills his chest up with something warm and fuzzy that makes him want to shower her in affection and melt into a puddle of goo at the same time.</p><p>“Relax those hips for me, Jason,” Hazel coos at him as she starts to rub the diamond against his rim with clear intent.  He does so without thinking, groaning at the feeling of his hole spreading open of its own accord, the dark cavity of his body begging to be filled.  “Good boy.”</p><p>The tip of the stone sinks through his rim and Jason groans, imagining Hazel looking down through the clear stone and seeing the other gems he’s carrying as it slips inside him, the diamond a window exposing how wet and full he is.  It’s <em>heavy</em>, its weight almost enough to slide home without Hazel’s hands aiding it along.  It’s easily wide enough to make him feel deliciously stretched.  </p><p>Jason’s moaning and sighing, loosing himself in the pleasure of it all when Hazel stops its inward progress <em>right</em> when it feels like the stone’s widest part is spreading him open; holds it there and lets him clench and squirm around its girth like he would a knot.  </p><p>It’s got him teetering right on the edge of orgasm, fingers clutching at the sheets and muscles twitching in anticipation.  The riches inside him cascade and tumble over each other with each clench of his inner walls, a constant assault on his prostate.  He’s torn between climbing the walls to escape it and simply succumbing to the feedback loop his own body’s falling into.</p><p>“<em>Please</em> Hazel!  Let me have it, <em>please!”</em></p><p>“Of course, sweetheart,” Hazel coos at him, and lets go of the stone.  Jason practically <em>sobs</em> into the pillow as his hole <em>devours</em> the rest of it, dragging its weight deep inside him and shoving all the rest even deeper before it.  He can feel his hole hanging slightly open in its wake, the chill of the air in the room dipping inside him like insubstantial fingers to brush over where his slick skin meets unforgiving wealth.  Hazel’s clever fingers trace circles around the fluttering muscle as his hips jerk and shudder, her other arm sliding around his waist to help him hold his posture when his legs start slipping on the silken sheets.  </p><p>A single finger slips inside him to touch the end of the diamond ever so lightly, and Jason falls apart with a wail; clenching helplessly around the riches inside him as cum fountains out of his neglected cock onto the sheets, eyes rolling back in his head as he collapses into Hazel’s small-strong arms.</p><p>Jason vaguely hears Hazel’s voice crooning praise into his ear.  And informing him she’ll help take them all out after he helps her do the dishes.</p><p>The thought of his glittering burden shifting inside him while he walks is enough to have him groaning through another wave of (dry) orgasm before his surroundings become vague and indistinct.</p>
<hr/><p>5:00 PM EST (10:00 PM GMT)</p><p>The six of them have been sitting in this particular coffee shop waiting for the foot traffic through Piccadilly Circus to subside for the past hour, and Frank is starting to get a little bored.  And sleepy, but mostly bored.  </p><p>At least until the latest round of marks turns out to be two instead of one.  </p><p>“This is ridiculous,” Reyna sighs, eyeing her wrist with resignation.  “One-hundred-thirty-four years, and we haven’t even finished the third task.”</p><p>“Dude, I’m not even sure how we’ll be <em>able</em> to until this lets up,” Percy groans, leaning forward until his head is resting on the table.  “I’m <em>really</em> not into electrostim,”</p><p>That’s… more information that Frank needs.</p><p>“I’m hoping that it’ll slow down after midnight Eastern Time,” Annabeth sighs next to him, swirling her (probably cold by now) tea around in her mug with a spoon.  “It <em>started</em> at midnight almost exactly, so there’s a decent chance it’ll stop.  The Erotes don’t want us to <em>fail</em>, but they’re also supposed to be rewarding Jason somehow.  I guess they really wanted to make sure it’d stick.”</p><p>“So we’re going to have to wait until maybe <em>five in the morning</em> before giving your plan a try?”  Nico asks bluntly.</p><p>Annabeth shrugs.  “We can try sooner than that, but I’m not sure how successful we’d be.  I agree with Percy; the whole ‘getting shocked every ten minutes’ thing really isn’t doing me any favors.”</p><p>“We should have brought Piper,” Hazel mumbles from where she’s leaning against Frank’s arm.  “Maybe she could charm-speak you into not noticing it.”</p>
<hr/><p>Jason squirms against his restraints, helpless as Calypso’s mouth explores the planes of his body and her fingers tease a river of slick from his hole.  </p><p>His rim is spread open around a smooth ring of carved stone, the aperture at its center allowing the titan to see and reach inside him with ease, letting his slick flow out of him and into the wide-mouthed jar positioned to catch it.</p><p>“I keep a taste of all the omega heroes who come to my island to remind me of the moments we shared together,” she’d told him as she bound him to the crude wooden rail lashed between two palms a little ways from her house.  “So be a good boy and you’ll be out of here in a few hours.”</p><p>Jason whimpers as a long finger slides effortlessly into him to stroke circles over his prostate.  His chest heaves and glistens in the hot sun, taught muscle straining as he hangs on the edge of orgasm, as he has for the past who-knows-how-many hours.  He gasps and whines and watches his dick twitch and drip over his abdomen whenever Calypso hits a particularly good spot inside him, and wonders how much longer he has until the jar is full…</p>
<hr/><p>9:00 PM EST (2:00 AM GMT)</p><p>The water from the fountain wraps cool and soothing around Percy’s back even as he squirms and arches against Annabeth’s strap-on.  He’s dimly aware of Piper’s voice in the background saying something, of the magic brush of her words over his mind, but he’s a little (a lot) preoccupied with the familiar-wonderful weight and friction between his legs.</p><p>Mist and spray swirl around them, rainbows cast by the floodlights illuminating the square split open by numerous large Iris-Messages, the impossibility of their existence obscuring him and Annabeth in the fountain.  </p><p>The heat within him is building slowly, spreading out through his limbs like molasses and making him melt into the embrace of the water.  A thought, and a tendril of it rises up to tease Annabeth where he can’t reach right no; and her next thrusts are much deeper and harder, hitting him just right, making him throw back his head and moan to the night sky.</p><p>“Keep that up, Seaweed Brain,” she pants in his ear, angling her hips <em>just</em> the way that turns his legs to jelly.</p><p>“<em>Ah!</em>  Sure thing, Wise Girl,” he manages to groan out between the little gasps of pleasure.  Annabeth leans forward over him, her fingers digging into his cheeks as her artificial knot grinds enticingly over his hole.  “Oh<em> f</em><em>uck</em> do that again!  <em>Please!”</em></p><p>Annabeth grins down at him and squeezes his ass <em>hard</em> between her hands, tugging his cheeks wide apart before she <em>slams</em> her hips into his.  Percy cries out and twitches around her silicone knot as it pops through his rim all at once, and suddenly he’s <em>rightrightright</em> <em>there</em> on the edge and he must be the luckiest man alive because it only takes Annabeth a <em>second</em> to realize it too and bodily drag him over by hauling him up into her lap so her silicone cock can <em>obliterate</em> his prostate as his own weight forces him down onto it.</p><p>Percy clamps his limbs around her like a four-armed octopus and whines into her throat as he paints the tight space between them with cum and gushes slick all over her thighs.  Her lips find his and they kiss sloppily, gradually coming down as the water from the fountain’s upper tiers splashes down over Percy’s back.</p><p><em>“You two put on a real treat of a show,”</em> Anteros’ voice echoes from the empty air around them.  Percy jumps as a definitely-not-Annabeth finger swipes through the sticky mess around his hole.</p><p>
  <em>“I’ll just take this.  See you in Athens.”</em>
</p>
<hr/><p>His dick twitches in its cage, but stays small and soft as he drools against the faux-leather of the padded table; unable and unwilling to escape the slow-steady slide of the thick silicone shaft through his rim and over his prostate.  He’s strapped down to the table, arms by his sides, chest down, hips up, legs spread.  Restraints hold him in a deep presentation posture while his body is trained to seek pleasure from his hole rather than his cock.</p><p>He’s not the only one.  To his left he can see Percy holding the same position as him.  The son of Poseidon has obviously already mastered presenting himself, because he holds the pose with no restraints at all; his face slack with pleasure as he orgasms again and again from the slow glide of the machine fucking into him.  Annabeth stands by his side, smiling indulgently down at him while her hands pet through his shaggy black hair.</p><p>On his right, Will is being prepared for the same, Calypso and Reyna man-handling him onto the table and into position, strapping down the son of Apollo’s long limbs and broad chest.  Jason can’t suppress a moan as he watches Piper whispering in Will’s ear as the cage is locked around his cock and the machine behind him presses its silicone phallus easily past his ring.  His own hole squeezes around the dildo filling him slowly as he remembers what it felt like in the beginning, the first true <em>rush</em> as the silicone cock slipped inside him, the heat rising beneath his skin as it dripped it’s maddening liquid gift over his vulnerable prostate; Piper’s voice telling him how to be good while his body surrendered.  </p><p>He nearly slips over the edge remembering the first time he came just from the feeling of the machine pushing into him at the start of a session.</p><p>Already, Will’s moaning and arching back against each thrust; at least, until Piper whispers something else in his ear and his hips grind to a halt, waiting properly rather than seeking his own pleasure.</p><p>Jason’s attention slips away on the next agonizingly slow glide of the toy’s girth through his overly-sensitive ring.  Each time it presses in it feels like he’s getting wetter and wetter, shoving thoughts of his own cock to the edges of his mind, reminding him that he’s supposed to be good and accept the pleasure that’s given to him.</p><p>Gentle hands wipe a soft, fluffy cloth over his mouth and chin before plush, familiar lips press against his.  Jason moans and does his best to kiss Piper back through the fog of arousal clouding his thoughts, dimly aware of her fingers threading through his messy hair.  A second pair of hands trail lightly along the arch of his spine as Piper’s magic-laced words whisper in his ear.</p><p><em>“You’re being so good, Jason.  You’ve come so far.”</em>  She traces the curve of his ear with the tip of her finger, smiling when it makes him shiver and moan.  <em>“Doesn’t it feel incredible to be so sensitive everywhere?  To get wet just from the slightest brush of fingertips over your skin?”</em></p><p>It does.</p><p>
  <em>“It’s so much better than playing with your cock, in’t it?”</em>
</p><p>Jason bites his lip and nods, because it <em>is</em>.<em><br/>
</em></p><p>
  <em>“You don’t even need it to feel good anymore, do you?  Isn’t that right, Jason?  It’s okay, you can tell me.”</em>
</p><p>“Don’ need it t’ feel g’d,” Jason mumbles obediently, sighing and going loose as her words settle like a warm blanket over his mind.  </p><p>It’s true, too.  His body hasn’t even <em>tried</em> to get hard the last few times he’s been up on the table.</p><p>
  <em>“That’s right.  You barely even remember that it’s there.  In fact, I think the next time you cum you’re going to forget you ever had one.  At least, until I remind you.  Won’t that be nice?  Nothing to distract you from how amazing it feels to have something filling you up?”</em>
</p><p>She’s right; he can feel his awareness of his caged shaft fading as his body nears the edge of orgasm, the bulge of the dildo’s knot starting to make contact with his rim on every thrust inward as it gradually starts to push deeper with each successive stroke.  He’s moaning nonstop now, body utterly relaxed as he’s moulded; body and mind by toy and words.  </p><p>Piper kisses him again, hands still petting soothingly through his hair as the artificial knot works itself gradually deeper; pushing everything but the need to present and be filled from Jason’s head.  The muscles of his rim flutter and clench, trying in vain to entice the fake cock to knot him properly.  The machine, of course, pays him no mind.  Instead, it continues its maddeningly slow pace, making Jason <em>drown</em> in the the way his body aches to be pinned down and claimed.</p><p>It feels like hours before the widest part of the knot is slowly slipping back and forth through his rim.  Jason’s body is on fire with needy pleasure, so-so-so <em>close</em> to what he wants, yet unable to get his brain to make his body rock back the final fractions of an inch necessary to take it on his own.  Piper croons praise and affection in his ear, telling him how good he is for waiting…</p><p>Finally, the machine lets the knot slip all the way inside him and comes to a stop.  Jason can feel it quivering, feel the unstoppable tide of his orgasm gathering as the heat of synthetic alpha seed pools inside him.  He groans louder and louder as the sensation intensifies, body still completely slack and still as the simple feeling of cum filling him up.  His skin is buzzing and his hole is twitching and he<em> still can’t move</em>, and suddenly the bubble bursts and he’s crying out into Piper’s mouth as his body shudders and his rim clenches and his mind <em>sparks;</em> over and over again, wave after wave of strange-familiar pleasure uncoiling from between his hips to wrap around the entirety of him like a warm and amorous snake.</p><p>And it just doesn’t <em>stop</em>. </p><p>His orgasm is a sprawling drawn-out thing, rolling through him just as slowly as the machine fucked him earlier, pushing everything but pleasure out of his head completely.  His hole leaks a torrent of slick, even with the knot filling him up.  The thin trails of cool wetness are brief, bright sparks of sensation in his mind as they travel over the curve of his perineum and become indistinct and fuzzy at his empty crotch.</p>
<hr/><p>12:00 AM EST (5:00 AM GMT)</p><p>Fortunately for Reyna’s sanity, Annabeth turns out to be right, and the annoyingly-regular jolts of electricity through her arm cease once it reaches midnight on the east cost of the US.</p><p>She still has one-hundred-seventy-six black dots tattooed on her wrist though; seven complete rings and the beginning of an eighth.  If they really mark orgasms (and from the way Percy and Annabeth had looked guilty when Nico made that assertion a whole day ago on the steps of Anteros’ shrine in New Rome, they are), then…</p><p>Well, she’s not sure <em>what</em> to think.  Close to two hundred orgasms in three days is <em>definitely</em> inhuman, let alone doing it every ten minutes on the dot for an entire day.  Percy and Annabeth seem confident that Hermaphroditus was telling the truth when he (they?) promised that no harm would come to Jason while he was in their care, but there’s no way something like this doesn’t leave a lasting impression on someone.  </p><p>Reyna is almost <em>eager</em> to get to Athens, if only to have some monsters to take out her frustration on.  </p><p>But they need to rest first.</p><p>Hopefully she’ll be able to sleep for a few hours before Jason’s misadventure with the sex gods wakes them all up again.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>CW for altered mental states, mind-altering substances, bondage, tentacles (sort of), dirty talk, Eros being a bit of a dick, sex toys, using charm-speak during sex, and chastity cages (a bit).  Please remember to look out for yourselves and only read what you're comfortable reading.  </p><p>Jason has scenes with... pretty much everyone in this chapter.  Annabeth, Percy, Piper, Leo, Calypso, Reyna, Nico, Will, Frank, and Hazel.  A reminder that everyone is significantly older than canon in this AU, with the youngest participants still being old enough to have graduated college; and also that Jason is in an altered mental state in which he sees his closest friends/crushes instead of Eros and Pothos, who are the ones actually in the room (or bed, as the case may be).</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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